


28 Tuxes

by vodkawrites



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 27 dresses au, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Romantic Comedy, Alternate Universe - Wedding Planner, Angst, Attempt at Humor, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Humor, M/M, Romantic Comedy, Slow Build, Victor is a reporter, Weddings, Yuuri Week 2017, Yuuri is a wedding planner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-05 21:58:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 32,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11587014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vodkawrites/pseuds/vodkawrites
Summary: While planning his 28th wedding, Yuuri begins to wonder if he can ever find love for himself.Or; the victuuri "27 Dresses" AU absolutely no one asked for.Written for Yuuri Week 2017!!





	1. Terra Incognita

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Yuuri Week 2017! Please enjoy this 27 Dresses x Yuri On Ice Crossover.
> 
> If you are interested, here is the link to trailer for the movie:[27 Dresses Trailer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VV1-pePln_I)
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Yuuri Week 2017!
> 
> So I've been secretly writing this for a month now so i am so excited to share this with you all! And what better than a 27 Dresses AU (aka my problematic fave of rom-com movies)?!
> 
> This isn't based solely on the movie (so it's totally okay if you haven't seen the movie, you will understand the concept) but I highly suggest watching it just to see this movie! Basically, this AU just takes some elements (and some of the best lines) and incorporates it into a YOI crossover! I will try to add any available clips that take elements from the movie in the note cards!
> 
> And, because I missed JJ style week, I just had to have the secondary couple be JJ and Isabella! So if you are craving a lot of JJ and Isabella, this could partially help satisfy you too!
> 
> So today's theme is "terra incognita" or unknown lands. I am definitely very liberal with my interpretation, but I hope it still counts. I mean, weddings themselves are unknown lands (and this is Yuuri's first real experience with one after all). Don't worry, the other themes will be more concrete than this one!
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!

Mozart found his calling at age five composing his first minuet.

Johnny Weir was eleven years old when he first learned to skate.

And Yuuri? He was ten when he discovered his purpose in life.

* * *

It is a rainy day in Hasetsu. Yuuri's mother tells him it's a sign of good luck for rain on one’s wedding day - apparently it's some old superstition.

Yuuri only sticks his tongue out.

He knows none of that is true. It's only to comfort anxious brides and prevent them from being upset. Rain isn't good luck. Rain only makes everything absolutely miserable. And just because someone is getting married doesn't exactly change that fact.

Yuuri steps into the large catering hall, gawking as the unknown land unfolds before him. There are twelve circular tables near the front of the room, all surrounding a small wooden stage. On each table is a bouquet of pink and white roses and more cutlery than Yuuri has ever seen. Honestly, Yuuri is a bit overwhelmed by the entire set up.

He is greeted by an attendant who takes his family's wet coats and ushers them towards the correct room. Apparently this room still needs time to set up and the official ceremony will take place in one of the back rooms.

Yuuri follows the attendant towards the back room, marveling at the grand spiral staircase and diamond chandelier. He shakes his hair dry which only drips water onto his sister's black dress.

"Yuuri!" Mari exclaims. She gawks at the water stains on her black dress, showing them off to Yuuri. "Why do you always have to ruin everything?"

"Sorry," he mumbles. He knows Mari doesn't mean to be so vulgar - her rude comments are just some twisted way she expresses her love for her younger brother - and he suspects it's only the teenage angst that is fueling her sixteen year old rage.

"Yuuri, Mari, why don't you go to the bathroom and dry yourself?" their mother suggests. She hopes her peace offering can placate her children before it manifests into a full blown argument. And knowing the Katsuki siblings, it is bound to become a rather disruptive scene if they aren't separated immediately.

"Okay," Yuuri agrees.

Mari, however, only huffs but his mother takes it as a positive sign.

Yuuri follows Mari up the stairs until she walks into the female washroom, promptly leaving Yuuri to fend for himself. He's ten after all, how hard could finding a bathroom be?

Apparently very hard because he finds himself walking around the large catering hall twice - possibly three times from the signs on the door but he can't be completely sure. Yuuri can't help it that the signs are impossible to decipher. 

He eventually comes across an unmarked door at the end of the hallway. It has to be the bathroom - there’s nothing else it could be. Besides, Yuuri isn't too keen on walking around the entire catering hall again and walks in anyways.

The first thing Yuuri notices is that it isn't like any bathroom Yuuri has ever seen (but he supposes he's never exactly been in a place so fancy before so it isn't necessarily that surprising). The room is plush and everything seems to be an off white; the wallpaper, the furniture, even the carpet is an obnoxiously white colour. The only things that aren't are two opened bottles of champagne (which seem to be almost empty) and a full length mirror.

Yuuri walks over to the mirror, checking to see if there is anything out of place. He fixes his hair, slicking it back into its original style. He then begins to admire himself in the mirror, contouring his body in various positions. He checks twice to make sure none of his stomach fat is visible through his suit. He knows it's vain (and that he's only ten and therefore he shouldn't be worrying about his body fat) but he can't help but to pinch and poke at his stomach rolls.

"Shit!" Minako shrieks.

Yuuri turns around, horrified.

"Oh my gosh! Am I in the girl's bathroom!?" Yuuri yells.

He should have known there is something wrong with this room - no male's bathroom looked like some sort of angelic paradise with three different vanities, two full length mirrors, and a chaise lounge. Not to mention the assortment of different soaps, makeup pallets, and bottles of champagne. Of course this is a women's washroom!

"Please don't tell anyone," he pleads. “It was a mistake!”

He couldn't imagine if anyone found out he accidentally stumbled into the woman's washroom. He isn't sure he would be able to show his face in Hasetsu ever again. He would need to move to the United States, get plastic surgery, and maybe change his to Leo. Yes, this plan could definitely work. He definitely has at least ten thousand yen stored away in his bank. It is only a matter of finding his passport...

However, Minako doesn't seem to mind. Instead, she cracks a smile, it's forced but it's a smile nonetheless.

"No, this is just the bridal suite; not the woman's bathroom."

"Oh," Yuuri breathes out, relieved at that revelation.

He is thankful that he didn't accidentally end up in the women's bathroom but his attention is now on Minako. She is dressed in a beautiful gown that reminds Yuuri of a ballerina. The bodice is a tight and sleeveless but is adorned in small rhinestones that shimmer off of the warm glow of the lights. The bottom of the dress extends past her feet creating an A-shaped silhouette that flatters her natural curves. There is a grey ribbon tied around her middle which matches her silver tiara. Yuuri thinks she looks more beautiful than he has ever seen her before.

However, even in all of her glamour, she seems rather distraught.

"What's wrong?" Yuuri asks innocently. He knows from the many romantic comedies he watches with his friends that weddings were supposed to be a happy time. He couldn’t understand why she seems so absolutely miserable.

Minako lifts her veil from her face,

"Oh, it's just...well everything!" she declares.

She fans herself around her eyes to dry up any stray tears. Yuuri reaches into his pocket and pulls out a crumpled tissue. Minako thankfully accepts the tissue and blows her nose into it.

"My hair is a mess and my gown got a stain!" she whines.

She motions to the bodice of her dress right below her navel. Yuuri has to squint to see the light outline of a champagne stain but under certain lights it is visible. Yuuri doesn't think it's that much to worry about, but he certainly wouldn't want a stain on his own wedding day, so he complies.

"Not to mention my partner's nephew is sick so we have no one to be the ring barer," she adds. She miserably collapses onto the chaise lounge, and grabs one of the half empty glasses of champagne. She downs is easily, ignoring the burn in the back of her throat.

"I'm sorry," he says genuinely. He knows how tough a wedding day must be, and to have everything - including the weather - turn against someone is difficult.

"Thank you," she tells Yuuri. "But unless you can fix a dress and cure a cold, I might have to cancel the wedding."

Yuuri blinks twice. Cancel the wedding? She can't possibly cancel the wedding over something so trivial! There must be something he can do...

"If you want, I can help braid your hair. I do it to Mari all the time! Plus the stain is easy to fix. Just run it under cold water and soap. And I don't know how to cure your nephew, but I can be the ring barer."

Minako looks up from her glass of champagne. “You would do that for me?”

“Of course! Everyone deserves a happy wedding!”

Minako laughs. "Oh Yuuri, you're a life saver!"

Yuuri smiles and begins tying up Minako’s hair. 

After what feels three hours of braiding and washing her dress (but in reality is closer to forty minutes), Minako looks perfect once more. She profusely thanks Yuuri before handing him a set of two rings on a white pillow. She quickly explains what he needs to do before ushering him down the aisle. 

He takes his place in the front row, sticking his tongue out at Mari as he passes her seat. She makes sure to kick the back of his seat as revenge.

As he takes his seat, the minister motions for the audience to stand and the pianist to begin playing the Bridal Chorus. Yuuri follows suit, turning his attention towards the spiraling staircase. 

Minako walks down the stairs, holding on to the railing and using all of her prior dance knowledge to look like she is gliding. She smiles brightly as she enters the room, waving at the audience. She is beautiful, there is no doubt, but Yuuri somehow finds his eyes wandering towards the alter. There, underneath the arch, is the groom.

He gazes at her with an absolutely awed expression - his eyes fill with a growing desire and his mouth curls into a an inviting smile.

Yuuri wishes one day that someone will look at him the same. 

He begins to drift off during the ceremony (he doesn’t particularly care about all the religion and traditions, if he is being honest) and instead begins to dream about his own wedding. He hopes it would be one of those beautiful ceremonies he sees on his mother’s soap operas - the weddings with a giant layered cake and a drunk father-in-law and cherry blossoms falling in the background. It sounds a bit cliche, but Yuuri thinks it is perfect. 

Mianko breaks his thoughts as she motions for him to hand her the rings. He takes the rings off of the pillow, handing her the golden bands. They have a small heart embossed on the front and their initials on the inside but despite their simple natural, Yuuri thinks they are rather beautiful. 

“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the minister says after the two slide the ring on the other’s hand. “You may now kiss." 

Yuuri watches the two press their lips together, melding into a deep kiss. Most people his age would look away, disgusted by the mere sight of two adults kissing. Instead, Yuuri finds it utterly romantic; so much so that a tear forms in his right eye. 

And that is the moment Yuuri fell in love with weddings. 


	2. Family & Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to Day 2 of the Yuuri Week extravaganza! I’m your not-host vodka here with another chapter of this 27 Dresses AU! On today’s chapter, we have all of the character introductions!
> 
> So today’s theme is Friends & Family so I took it a bit more literally. Basically, Yuuri’s “friends” and their family at the beginning stages of their wedding. AKA Isabella, JJ, and all of JJ’s family.
> 
> Plus, there may or may not be the introduction of the main love interest/reporter.
> 
> If you have watched 27 Dresses, you will begin to see how this AU will be completely different from the movie. Yuuri (Jane) has absolutely no romantic interest in JJ (George) and has no familial relation to Isabella (Tess); they are just clients. And the reporter (Kevin) isn’t exactly doing a story on Yuuri so much as he is doing one on JJ.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!

“Yuuri! Your clients are here!” Phichit, his assistant, calls from the front desk.

“Send them in!” Yuuri answers back.

Yuuri collects the papers that are scattered on his desk and shuffles them into a green folder. He knows that he had tidied his office three times in preparation - four if he counts Phichit’s efforts - but he supposes nothing is too excessive. 

The office is nothing special to begin with, but he supposes it is rather nice for a wedding planner. There’s a large desk with an equally large computer (with two unnecessary but also completely necessary monitors) near the back of the office. Towards the middle of the room are a set of couches and coffee tables for clients to use. Lining the office are two bookshelves filled with books that range from flower symbolism to colour theory to just about anything necessary to plan a wedding. The room is mostly illuminated by two floor length windows but there is a warm overhead lamp for extra ambiance which makes it have an almost homey feel. So his excessive cleaning is necessary just to impressive his arguably most important clients. 

Apparently, the groom to be is rather famous in Canada but he doesn’t know more than that. He wonders if he is a hockey player or Justin Bieber or something of the sort. He fully braces himself for whatever may be waiting behind his door.

What he doesn’t expect is an entourage of guests. Yuuri gathers that the others must all be family members. It isn’t uncommon for family members to help with wedding planning - especially if they were paying for the affair - so he shouldn’t be as surprised as he is. However, he finds six people (two of them being under the age of 16) to be a bit excessive.

He easily picks out the bride from the crowd. She doesn’t seem to resemble any of the others in the crowd, but she has her own sort of beauty. The bride-to-be is stunning in every definition of the word with short black hair and bright blue eyes. 

The groom, however, Yuuri isn’t too sure which one he is. He knows he should be able to pick out one of Canada’s quote-unquote heroes but despite living in the country for four years, Yuuri can’t seem to recognize him, but certainly not among two other males who look almost identical. Even down to their haircuts, it seems difficult to tell the two apart. 

“Ah, so nice to meet you all!” Yuuri says politely, addressing all of them. He stands from his chair and holds out a hand for them to shake. 

“We’ve heard so much about you,“ the eldest woman says. She shakes Yuuri’s hand politely but Yuuri finds it stiff and uninviting. "I’m Nathalie and this is my husband Alain, the twins Justin and Juliette, and the bride and groom Jean-Jacques and Isabella." 

Yuuri head spins. He hardly thinks he is going to remember all of those names (let alone which one is the groom and which one is his younger brother). He silently wishes only the bride and groom came alone but he supposes beggars can’t be choosers. Besides, isn’t it supposed to be the bride’s family that gets involved in planning the wedding? 

He chooses not to voice those opinions out loud. 

“It’s so great to be here! We’ve heard only good things from Milla and Sara,” the taller of the two Leroy sons says. He deducts that this one is most likely the groom to be, given his stature and how his hand is holding onto’s Isabella’s. 

Yuuri smiles uncomfortably. He reminds himself that this is the wedding that could start his career as a famous wedding planner. Or it could end going down in burning flames with his name forever blacklisted from every couple in the country. You know, one of the two.

“Please,” Yuuri begins. He gestures to the leather couches. “Make yourself comfortable." 

The group situates themselves on two separate couches: Isabella and JJ on one couch while the rest of the family piles onto another. Yuuri goes over to his large bookshelf before pulling out two large books. One is a lengthy catalog that features ideas for venues, flowers, dresses, decorations, and all the other basic necessities. The other is an empty planner to keep track of their progress and basic details. He grabs his own notebook and a ball point pen before shuffling over to the couches. 

He sits down at one of the empty arm chairs across from the couple.

"So how did you two meet?” he asks to make conversation. He knows to some it is simply protocol, but Yuuri genuinely loves to hear the romantic ways his clients meet. Everything from meeting in a coffee shop to being college roommates, he’s heard it all before. Personally, he thinks his favourite is the couple that started off as rivals but ended up falling in love. It may sound a bit cliche, but Yuuri finds it extremely romantic.

“They were high school sweethearts,” JJ’s mother answers.

Yuuri blinks. He would be lying if he says he isn’t a bit put off by the fact JJ’s mother answered for him, but no one else in the room seems to mind. In fact, both Justin and Juliette are both on their phones, ignoring the conversation completely.

Instead, Isabella continues the story as if nothing is unusual. “We were in class together back in Montreal.” She looks over at her fiancé, flashing him a warm smile. “JJ asked me to our junior prom and we’ve been together ever since.”

“That’s very sweet,” Yuuri says genuinely. It’s a rather typical answer, especially for couples as young as they are, but it’s not unwelcome. In fact, Yuuri finds it extremely romantic. 

“And now we’ll be getting married. Soon we’ll be officially Mr. and Mrs. Leroy-Yang,” JJ announces. He places a hand atop his finance’s and begins to rub soothing circles into her knuckles.

“We want them to get married before JJ starts school in Toronto,” JJ’s father explains.

Yuuri nods.

“You two seem very eager,” Yuuri muses outloud. 

“Isn’t everyone eager to get married?” JJ’s mother asks.

JJ and Isabella eye each other, their expressions unreadable. It lasts only for a brief second but Yuuri still notices how tense they seem. He tries not to dwell on that.

“I suppose,” Yuuri hums in agreement.

He supposes he too is eager to get married. Despite that he doesn’t have a significant other (at the moment, he reminds himself) doesn’t mean he hasn’t dreamed about the day when he would wed.

He knows it has to be an early spring wedding, one where the cherry blossom trees are in full bloom. He knows he wants Phichit to be his best man and his parents to walk him down the aisle. Whether or not it’s a big wedding with needless ice sculptures and seven course meals or an intimate affair on the sands of a rocky beach, Yuuri doesn’t exactly mind. All he knows is that he wants a wedding with someone who truly loves him.

He shakes those thoughts away. Today isn’t about him to imagine his perfect - albeit nonexistent - wedding. No, he must focus on the people who are actually getting married.

“Why don’t we get started?” he asks.

“Of course! We have no time to spare. Jean has to be back by two for practice,” JJ’s father points out as if Yuuri is supposed to know his client’s schedules.

Yuuri ignores that last part and starts his typical pitch. 

“Did you two decide on a date?” he asks.

He begins to absentmindedly thumb through one of the volumes, looking for some sort of inspiration. He isn’t sure how exactly to plan a wedding for this situation. Sure, he had planned twenty seven other weddings which have all be successful, but none of them have been even close to this caliber. Jean-Jacques Leroy is a big celebrity here (or at least as big as ice skaters who recently won gold at the Olympics); therefore, he needs to create a wedding for for a king - or rather for King JJ.

“We’d like spring. Preferably May after the season is over. They’d do earlier but Jean is going to be travelling so much it’s not worth it,” JJ’s mother explains.

Yuuri stills. May? As in the May of the following year? As in the May that is exactly nine months and three days away?

Yuuri feels his breath hitch at the mere thought of planning a wedding in a mere nine months. Not to mention that this wedding is for a famous celebrity in which his reputation depends on the success of the wedding. A wedding for someone of JJ’s caliber already put a lot of pressure on him. And now with the extra stress of planning a wedding in a mere nine months; it is almost too much to handle.

He silently regrets taking on the request. He knows that he only agreed because Phichit encouraged (rather forced) him to take the job. Something about planning for someone like JJ would give him some fame within the wedding planner industry. Honestly, he would be just as happy planning for two average people who just want their perfect wedding.

Yuuri feels a headache forming.

“Alright,” he says, trying to show no form of discomfort. He must remain neutral for his clients - particularly for clients who could make or break his career as an official wedding planner.

“Do you have a specific budget for the entire thing?” he continues.

“For everything? Probably $100,000 but we can compromise. Nothing is too expensive for their big day,” JJ’s mother cooes.

Yuuri nods but doesn’t say anything about the budget. Sure, it is a ridiculous amount of money - $100,000 dedicated to one day is more than Yuuri will ever see in his life - but he supposes love doesn’t have a price. Besides, there are weddings that cost ten times more than that so who is Yuuri to judge (even if the average wedding is 1/5th the cost).

“Do you have anything in mind, as of right now?”

JJ and Isabella eye each other, as if they want the other to speak first.

Eventually, JJ admits “not really. We haven’t really talked about wedding plans a lot.”

“Is there anything you want specifically?”

“I want a big wedding!” Isabella blurts, her eyes wide.

Yuuri chuckles at her innocence; he easily learns she is only nineteen after all. He finds is rather endearing how excited they are about planning their wedding. He always appreciates it when the couples are enthusiastic.

“That can be arranged.”

“We are inviting at least 500 people so we need a big enough place. I’ve got a big family,” JJ’s father explains.

Yuuri taps his pencil on the page before jotting down some basic notes.

**-Big venue**

**-Lots of people**

**-May wedding**

**-Flexible budget**

“Do you have any venues in mind?” Yuuri asks, pushing his glasses further up his nose. 

“It has to be in a church for the ceremony. And then we were thinking of a place with an ice rink for the reception. We want our first dance to be on the ice. Isabella even took lessons.”

Yuuri internally groans at his suggestions. Of course the famous couple would want something so ridiculous and contrived as to have their reception at an ice rink instead of something more traditional. As if planning the wedding isn’t already hard enough, add in a fancy ice rink that can hold 500 people and their high expectations to the mix.

“Hmmm…I’ll have to look around for options, if you don’t mind,” he confesses. He hopes the couple can take the hint and suggest something more reasonable.

“Very well,” JJ’s mother says with a surprising amount of understanding.

“Take your time,” JJ insists.

Yuuri lets out a breath he isn’t aware that he is holding in. He truly thankful that they are forgiving of the situation. He relaxes into his seat - only slightly though because he certainly doesn’t want to appear unprofessional (no matter how uncomfortable sitting up straight is for his back).

He continues with some other questions. They’re not really that important or interesting, but it is protocol that he asks anyways. Things like type of flowers, people in the bridal party, if they want a limo and such; it’s all very basic questions and he is grateful that these specifications are easier than finding their perfect venue.

“Alright. I think there’s enough to work with for right now,” Yuuri says. He looks down at his notes for emphasis, memorizing the specific bullet points. There’s nothing truly unreasonable - aside from the ice rink but he hopes they might change their mind in the upcoming weeks - so Yuuri is rather grateful.

“I can begin by finding some venues and we can start from there. I can give you a call next week when I have a few suggestions.”

“Perfect,” JJ says with a grin.

The couple stands up from the couch followed by the rest of the group. 

“It was nice meeting you, Mr. Katsuki,” Isabella says politely. She offers him a warm smile which Yuuri easily reciprocates. 

“Please, call me Yuuri,” he says before wishing the rest of them a pleasant goodbye. 

He watches as the entourage (because that is exactly what six people including the bride and groom are at this point) exists his office, waving goodbye to his receptionist on the way out. 

Yuuri lets out a heavy sigh. Sure he loves planning weddings - he practically lives and breathes to design the perfect wedding - but he always forgets how absolutely draining it is. Finding the venue, picking the flowers, deciding on the dresses, and the cake. Not to mention picking items for the registry, deciding on the theme, inviting the guests and determining the seating arrangement; it’s all very tiring. And all in nine months, nonetheless.

He needs some strong black tea and he needs it now.

He walks out of his office, hoping to go to the coffee shop around the corner. It should only be about five minutes and he doesn’t have that much work to do at the moment so it shouldn’t be that big of a deal.

He walks out of his office, turning the corner only to be met with what can only be described as an angel sent from the heavens above. 

Yuuri looks up at him, drinking in his form. He is beautiful - gorgeous really; there is absolutely no denying that. His hair is a bright platinum blond that makes Yuuri wonder if it is natural or a product of too much bleaching.  His eyes are an inviting shade of blue that makes Yuuri never want to look away. He’s never seen someone with such a strong jaw and chiseled features. 

He knows it must be silly for a grown man to pine over someone he hasn’t even said anything to, but he finds himself doing so anyways.

“Are you here for an appointment?” Yuuri asks, a bit reluctantly. He sincerely hopes the beautiful man isn’t here to plan his own wedding.  

To be honest, he doesn’t remember having anymore appointments for the day - JJ and Isabella are supposed to take up most of his time so he really can’t afford to see anymore clients. Plus, September isn’t always the most popular season to begin planning a wedding. 

“Not really,” he admits but he doesn’t exactly look ashamed of that fact.

Yuuri furrows his eyebrows, a bit confused by that comment. Why else would a beautiful man in a neatly pressed suit be at a wedding planner’s office? It is entirely possible that he is an undercover spy or a prince of some faraway country or a male model ready to help Yuuri sell his business. Judging by how he looks in his navy blue suit, it’s hard to imagine him as anything but a male model. 

“I’m here for JJ.“ 

Of course.

Of fucking course.

Yuuri scowls. He isn’t here for Yuuri (or even for Yuuri’s business); he’s only here to exploit JJ and Isabella for an autograph or a story or a selfie to get him his fifteen minutes of fame. He doesn’t know what disappointments him the most: the fact that he is here for his clients or that Yuuri almost fell for his stunning  good looks.

"I’m sorry and you are?” he asks with more bite than he intends. Yuuri shifts his weight to one leg, cocking out his hip in the process which makes him feel like a mother lecturing a small child.

 To be honest, he just wants his tea and maybe a nap for the rest of his life; he certainly doesn’t want to deal with whatever the mysterious stranger has to say.

“Victor, Victor Nikiforov,” he emphasizes as if it is supposed to mean something.

Yuuri narrows his eyes. His name doesn’t help to clarify anything, but this Victor character seems to think that his name alone means something to Yuuri.

“And you’re here because…?” he asks, letting the words hang in the air.

“I’m JJ’s reporter,” he explains He holds up some official looking badge that hangs around his neck by a teal lanyard. It has a flattering head shot along with his age, profession, and company’s name. Yuuri ignores the details. 

Instead, he scans the beautiful man skeptically. He doesn’t exactly look like a reporter - not that he knows what a reporter should even look like - but there is no evidence that says that he isn’t a crazy fan 

“Look, I’m a sports reporter, nothing more. Here’s proof.” The reporter reaches into the front pocket of his neatly pressed slacks and fishes out a card. He hands Yuuri  a business card.

“How do I know you didn’t forge this?” Yuuri asks. 

He scans the business card for any irregularities, holding it up to the light in hopes it will give him some sort of answers. Instead, it seems to be just a business card, one - in Yuuri’s humble opinion - that is rather boring. It’s a plain white with blue text reading his name and his company. Towards the edge is an obviously poorly rendered clip-art image of an ice skate that makes it look like a four year old designed his business card on PowerPoint. 

“You can look up my articles online. Or in the paper, but no one reads the paper anymore.”

Yuuri hums, storing the card in his own pocket. He supposes he can’t argue with that logic.

"So why are you here?” he asks, his voice devoid of its usual professional demeanor. He hopes the reporter can pick up on that little subtly and leave him alone. "Don’t you write sports articles?“

"I do but my boss wants an article about JJ’s wedding. Apparently skating fans care about his love life. Trust me, I don’t want to be here. Love makes me sick.”

Yuuri rolls his eyes.

“So, is there anything their official wedding planner can tell the readers?” he asks, holding a recording device up to Yuuri’s face.

Yuuri takes a step back, careful that he isn’t too close to the recording device. He wouldn’t want it picking up any sort of negativity, or anything for that matter. He couldn’t have his clients think he is breaching their privacy. Weddings are intimate occasions, after all. 

“Well all information is confidential,” he replies stubbornly.

“Confidential?” Victor asks. He lowers his hand with the recording device but Yuuri notices he didn’t shut it off. “I’m sorry I don’t think you understand-”

“I do understand,” he interrupts. “Weddings are special; they shouldn’t be exploited for a cheap pay check.” For emphasis, he gestures to the recording device.

"Hey!” he defends. He pouts a bit, making Yuuri’s thought about being a mother lecturing a small child to be even more accurate. “My writing is not cheap.”

“Well I suggest you use your writing talent and find a new story focus, Mr…”

“Nikiforov,” he answers, puffing his chest out. “Victor Nikiforov.”

“Yes, Mr. Nikiforov,” he begins. He hands the business card to the stranger, hoping that he never has to see his beautiful face ever again. “I suggest you go back to writing about sports and stay out of JJ’s personal life.”

“Trust me, if it were up to me, I would,” the reporter says with a scoff. “But my boss is insistent.”

“Well then tell your boss that I refuse to give people like you any information about their wedding.”

Victor looks a bit taken aback. “You won’t tell me anything?”

“Nothing,” he states with a smug grin.

Victor narrows his eyes.

“Mark my words, Yuuri. I’ll get the information from you one way or another.”

Yuuri smirks.

“I’d like to see you try.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading this! If you like this, please leave a comment or kudos! They really inspire me to write more <3
> 
> Welcome to the beginning of a wonderful, twisted, romance between Wedding Planner Yuuri and Cynical Reporter Victor!
> 
> Also, I really wanted to make a fic with JJ and Isabella because they are an awesome couple! And, of course, JJ’s parents (who I personally headcanon as super overprotective). I hope you like this side plot (which isn’t really a side plot).
> 
> Follow my tumblr @vodkawrites for more updates, art, and other yuri!!! on ice content!!
> 
> See you all tomorrow for Day 3 of Yuuri Week!


	3. Gold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn, vodka, back at it again with the new chapter (and old memes). 
> 
> Today's theme is "gold" which I took almost literally. There is gold everything: gold invitations, gold tuxedos and maybe even a heart-of-gold. 
> 
> This chapter will be one of the last ones to /focus/ on JJ and Isabella's relationship which will kick start Victor and Yuuri's. So get ready for that! 
> 
> I hope you are all enjoying this fic! Thank you so much all of your support!!

"Yuuri! Phichit! I got the invitations all printed!" an eager voice shouts, waving the invitations for his coworkers to see.

Yuuri looks up from his computer screen, to see Minami is the company's resident graphic designer. He's young and eager and a bit too enthusiastic - he practically worships the ground Yuuri steps on, if he is being completely honest. But he is a reliable worker and a nice person, so Yuuri  has absolutely nothing against him.

"Excellent. Let me see."

Yuuri takes the invitations from Minami, admiring the details. The invitations are printed on a thick white card with golden text announcing the union of Jean-Jacques Leroy and Isabella Yang. It’s quite subtle and not obnoxiously flashy; Minami has really outdone himself.

"They're beautiful. Thank you," Yuuri praises. He runs his hands over the embossed white snowflakes that line the card, appreciating the added details.

Minami squeals - a noise Yuuri is convinced only dogs could hear.

“Let me see!” Phichit insists, grabbing the cards from Yuuri’s hands. He inspects them once, nodding in approval. 

"If you have some free time, can you start designing the name cards?" Yuuri asks.

He nods eagerly, which Yuuri is thankful for.

"Anything for you, Yuuri!" Minami agrees with a wide smile.

He walks out of the office - although Yuuri would swear there is a spring in his step - leaving Phichit and Yuuri alone once more. 

"You know, Minami's pretty cute," Phichit begins with a smug grin.

Yuuri looks up from his computer to glare at his friend. It's not that he does appreciate his comment - okay maybe that is part of it - but he really doesn't have time to think about the appearance of his co-worker. He is currently looking for the perfect large rink close enough to s church and fancy enough to hold a wedding but his results are slim - or rather impossible. He honestly not sure there even is a venue that fits JJ's description (or rather his parent's description).

"He is," Yuuri replies innocently.

Minami is rather adorable, in a little brother sort of way. Maybe it's his overly dyed yellow and red hair or his short stature or his rounded face that make him seem so child-like. Or maybe it’s his infatuation with every single thing Yuuri does that makes him so disinterested. 

"And I think he likes you," Phichit points out rather casually.

"I would hope so," he answers, promptly ignoring his friend. He doesn't have time for this forced romance, not when JJ's wedding is supposed to be in seven months and he doesn't even have a venue yet!

He returns to the results page in the main database, searching and hoping one venue will fulfill his client's outlandish requirements. He scrolls through the first two results before clicking on the third. It's a bit out of the way towards the east side of the city but it is probably the best choice so far.

"We're good friends," he adds without looking up.

"No, Yuuri, he  _likes_  you," he says, emphasizing the word ‘like’ more than it needs to be.

"Phichit!" he exclaims, almost horrified that Phichit would even suggest something so ridiculous. Minami only respects him as a boss, maybe even as a friend; he most certainly doesn't see him as a potential love interest.

"He's like 15!" Yuuri argues.

"18 as of August," Phichit points out.

Yuuri scowls and returns to his computer's search results. He isn't going to give him the satisfaction he is so desperately searching for.

"Still, he's not my type," he responds stubbornly.

"Why not?" he asks, the disappointment obvious in his voice.

Yuuri groans. He knows he has been trying to set him up with Minami since they hired him six months ago. Well, today is certainly not going to be the day that ever comes to fruition.

"If I lie and say it's because he's a Leo and I'm a Sagittarius will you leave me alone?" Yuuri huffs.

Phichit groans. He pinches the bridge of his nose, exasperated with Yuuri's behavior. "How long are you going to be single?"

Yuuri sticks out his tongue. "Forever."

He exhales dramatically. "At least try with Minami?" he pleads.

Yuuri lets out a long sigh. He knows his friend just wants him to be happy - he has told him countless times how much he wants a wedding of his own - but setting him up with the wrong person isn't the solution. Love is supposed to come naturally, sometimes in the most unexpected of ways. Like meeting a reporter at your own office who just wants a story about one of your clients-

Wait, what?

"No. He's too young," he states.

He clicks on one of the results, reading over the venue's specifications. 750 people, 5000 square meters, and a few rooms in the back that can be used for the reception. It seems reasonable and not too far out of the way so he bookmarks the suggestion for later use.

Phichit rolls his eyes. "You say that everything time! He's too this, she's too that!" 

That's why you're going to end up alone forever, his mind supplies. Yuuri has heard that before. He is already 24 and has never been in a serious relationship. Sure he's been in a few high school and college hookups, but they were nothing but short term, uncommitted relationships. He thinks he is destined to live alone with his career and a dog, if he's lucky.

However, Yuuri choose to ignore that thought.

"He's just...not my type," Yuuri confesses honestly.

Phichit rests his elbows on the top of the monitor. His hands inconspicuously fall in front of the computer screen but he knows it's anything but inconspicuous.

"Then what is your type?"

"Someone sweet and romantic but also sexy,” Yuuri replies generically. Sure, it is a bit cliche, but it’s something to look for. “I want someone who can treat me right and understand me.You know, someone who knows how to surprise me."

He's always thought about his perfect partner in his head. While there usually isn't exactly a face - or a gender, for that matter - he finds himself easily picturing his perfect partner. Their face is square with a sharp, hooked nose and strong jawline that could probably rival any movie star. Their eyes are an inviting shade of aquamarine that one can’t help but get lost in. His hair is a chopped platinum that falls just below his ears and frames his face. It’s familiar, Yuuri is sure of it.

He easily recalls those features to belong to none of than Victor Nikiforov.

AKA the reporter.

AKA the douche who wants to use Yuuri to get information about JJ for an article.

He tries to shake the thought of imagining that reporter he’s barely said anything nice to, but for some reason he keeps invading his thoughts.Sure, he is vulgar and abrasive and maybe a bit cocky, but he is also the most attractive person he has ever met. Yuuri can't exactly decide why he is so intoxicated by someone so rude.

"Yuuri,” he deadpans. “That sounds like a dog, not a person. No one is that perfect."

Yuuri crosses his arms over his chest. He doesn't want to admit that someone like that may just exist in his life - in the form of a reporter who just wants information from him.

"Well until they do, then I'm not interested," he replies in hopes his statement in enough to placate his nosy friend.

Yuuri easily finds out it's not.

"But you're supposed to meet at a bar. They'll ask if you want a drink and you'll smile and say vodka soda. If you already have a drink, you'll down it and order a vodka soda. Then there's some flirting, some sex, a giant wedding (where I'm the best man, of course), and a life of bliss. How many times do we have to go over this?"

Yuuri whistles, impressed with Phichit's prediction. It's a bit specific - he doesn't want to think how long he has been concocting this idea for - but it's not improbable. He somewhat likes that happily ever after ending. And for that, it's rather admirable.

"You really have this all planned out."

"Well  _someone_  has to since you can't find anyone."

Yuuri groans. He really doesn't want to have this conversation for the fifth time this year. He's happy being single - or at least he is convinced he is happy. Besides, the time just isn’t right at the moment.

"I'm just not interested right now," he lies.

He knows, as much as he hates to admit it out loud, that he wants to find someone. He wants someone by his side. He wants a person to call his love. He wants a wedding for himself.

"Anyways, I have lots of work to do," Yuuri states, easily deflecting anymore of Phichit's matchmaking. 

He doesn’t exactly have time to put himself out there when he has a wedding so plan. Besides, if Yuuri wants to indulge himself in his work instead of finding a suitable partner, then so be it.

Who is Phichit to judge when he is single as well?

Phichit rolls his eyes but doesn't pressure him any further.  

"Lame," he retorts. Yuuri winks. "You know it. Now check over those invitations. They want the first batch sent out before next Monday!"

* * *

Yuuri isn't exactly sure why he is at the tuxedo fitting. Wedding planners usually aren't invited to tuxedo fittings, at least he wasn't invited to the 26 other tuxedo fittings (and one dress fitting) for the weddings he planned. He silently wonders where JJ’s (or rather if he has any) friends are.  _They_  were supposed to be the ones that attended the tuxedo fitting, not Yuuri.

Well, at least JJ's brother and father came along. As annoying as they are constantly fussing over JJ's suit and fidgeting in their seats, Yuuri is thankful that they put most of the pressure off of him to pick the perfect wedding suit.

So Yuuri tries to entertain himself by thumbing through a magazine provided by the store. It's (of course) a sports magazine Yuuri has absolutely no interest in reading; he would much rather be entertained by the phone book than another fantasy football statistic. And yet he can't help but to be entertained by an article about figure skating.

How fitting.

"What do you think?" JJ asks.

Yuuri looks up from the magazine to see JJ posing in front of them. He is standing on an elevated platform in front of three full length mirrors, hip jutting out and forcing a smile.

Yuuri purses his lips, trying to form an objective opinion about the outfit. The suit is well made, that's for certain; Yuuri is certain the buttons alone probably cost more than he will ever make in his life. The matching pants fit snugly around his muscular legs but are probably the most flattering part, which certainly doesn't say much. The blazer is a velvet piece that looks more something a Vegas casino owner would wear than a groom. Not to mention the colour does little to accentuate his natural beauty (plus, who wears gold to a wedding?).

He personally thinks it looks tacky but he bites his tongue for the sake of his client. He'll just see what the others say for now.

"Ugh that's hideous," JJ's brother admits honestly. He even sticks out his tongue for emphasis and makes a fake gagging noise.

"You think so?" JJ asks. He turns around in the mirror, admiring how his bottom looks in the tight fitting pants.

Yuuri tries to stifle a laugh.

"I want something that stands out," JJ declares. "Plus it matches my gold medal vibe and the gold rings."

"I don't think gold matches the look you're going for," JJ's father says politely.

"Are you sure?" he asks with a pout.

"I think the other one suits you, better" Yuuri admits.

JJ raises his eyebrows but doesn't say anything.

"Trust me, I've been to enough weddings - and worn my fair share of tuxes - to know what looks good. And I know for certain that Isabella won't be able to look away from you in that grey tux."

"But I know I won't be able to look away from her," JJ says with a love stricken smile.

"You must love her," Yuuri says without thinking. He internally cringes, realizing how absolutely ridiculous he must sound. It is painfully obvious how much he loves Isabella and how much she loves him back. He wishes he could find someone that he is that compatible with.

"Of course I do. I'm marrying her, aren't I?"

Yuuri doesn't say anything to that. He knows full and well that marriage doesn't not always equate to love, as much as he likes to think that it does. So he bites his tongue and lets JJ change the conversation.

"You're right though, this one sucks."

"If you want, we can try on the other ones again. They were nice," JJ's father offers.

"Even the blue one?"

"I liked it. It reminds me of my tux," Yuuri mentions.

Albeit, JJ's blue tuxedo is a lot different than Yuuri's is - his is a shade of navy blue while Yuuri's is a soft baby blue - he still has a fondness for blue tuxedos. Maybe because it is the first real tuxedo he wore at a wedding or maybe because he just likes the colour blue.

Or maybe he just wants to get this appointment over with and go on with his life. 

"You wore blue at your wedding?"

"I...um...no. I didn't have a wedding."

Yuuri adverts the floor, memorizing the pattern of the wood. He should have never mentioned that he has a blue tuxedo.

"I'm still single," he adds.

"Oh. I'm sorry," he apologizes out of courtesy.

Yuuri silently wonders if he means it at all. He has heard it thousands of times before: don't worry you'll find the right person; you'll know the time is right; everyone has their own pace. He wishes he could get married already just to never hear a comment like that again.

"I just thought cause you're older than me that you're married," he clarifies.

Yuuri blinks twice. He's only five years older, he reminds himself. Plenty of people are single at his age and plenty of people are older than him and single.

"I'm sorry, again."

Yuuri cracks a small smile. He tries not to let the comment bother him.

"It's okay. I'd much rather help others get married for the time being."

He offers Yuuri a genuine smile. "Well I hope one day you'll meet someone as special as my Isabella."

"That's very sweet of you," he says.

"I can hook you up. I know Isabella has a sister."

Yuuri shakes his head. He really doesn’t want to delve into a relationship at the moment, and he doesn’t particularly want to date one of his client’s sisters.

"That's alright,” he quickly deflects. “Besides, we should focus on your tux."

"You're right! My tux is the most important thing" he claims before hastily adding "aside from Isabella's dress, of course! It has to be perfect."

"Why don't you try the gray one again? It was very classy," JJ's father suggests.

"You're right, I did look rather good in it," he brags with a smirk.

Yuuri tries not to roll his eyes - he truly does - but sometimes, JJ's cockiness makes it almost impossible not to be a tad annoyed. He silently wonders what Isabella sees in him, aside from being a famous celebrity with tons of money.

"I think Isabella will like it too," Yuuri points out.

"Really? You're not just saying that?"

"O-of course not," he lies nervously. "I'm sure Isabella will love you no mater what you wear."

"Oh, Yuuri. What would I do without you?"

Yuuri laughs nervously. "Choose the wrong tux, I guess."

"You're right." He takes one more look in the mirrors before stepping down from the platform. "I'm going to try on that gray one again before I make any decisions. Maybe I can add in a gold tie."

"Sounds good," Yuuri agrees politely. Honestly, he doesn't care what he does so long as JJ is happy (and he gets out of this tuxedo fitting so he can relax at home).

"Son, let me go help you," JJ's father insists, peeling himself off from the couch. "Justin, you come too."

"Do I have to?" JJ's brother groans. He sinks deeper in the couch as if to cement his spot.

"Justin Antoine Leroy, you will come and help. This is important for your brother's wedding," he demands.

Yuuri finds the exchange rather endearing. For some reason, it reminds him of families on television shows.

"Besides, we still need to be find a tuxedo for you."

Justin lets out a sigh but pulls himself off the couch regardless. "Fine. But I'm not wearing gold."

Yuuri watches as all three of the Leroys shuffle to the back of the store before unfolding his magazine. He hates to admit it, but he is a bit relieved to have some peace and quiet. Being around the Leroy family is frankly exhausting.

He is relieved to return to his magazine. He can’t believe that he is actually interested in an ice skating article, of all things. And one written about JJ, nonetheless.

"Yuuri," a familiar voice says. He peeks over the top of the magazine, fully expecting to see JJ in his grey suit again.

Instead, he comes face to face with the reporter who came to his office a few weeks ago. He’s just as beautiful as he remembers him: perfectly combed platinum hair and alluring blue eyes. But his stunning good looks don’t explain how he somehow found Yuuri once more at a tuxedo fitting.

Yuuri sets down his magazine and pulls the reporter aside.

"What are you doing here?" Yuuri asks in a hushed voice.  He doesn't exactly fancy a reporter busting in to his appointments unannounced. He thought his lecture a few weeks ago was enough to discourage him for coming again. He supposes nothing could dissuade a ruthless reporter.

"Doing my own investigation since  _someone_  won't give me any information," he says sarcastically.

Yuuri clenches his jaw. "I will not have you spoiling their wedding! I have a reputation," he whispers.

He looks over his shoulder, making sure that JJ or his family has not yet returned to the main room.

"I'm not spoiling," he claims with a careless wave of his hand.

Yuuri frowns at that lie.

"I just need a sneak peak for my boss. Believe me, if I didn't have to be here, I'd be happy,” he scoffs. “Just a few minor details like what he's wearing and we're good to go."

Yuuri pinches the bridge of his nose. It doesn't sound like it will be that bad. He supposes if he gives the information now, he would never have to see that annoying and gorgeous reporter ever again. Besides, maybe spending time with him will finally get him out of his hair (and his dreams, for that matter).

"If I agree, will you leave?" he asks through gritted teeth.

"Yes," Victor agrees with a smile.

"Alright," Yuuri agrees reluctantly. He's not exactly sure why he says yes - he has absolutely no reason to agree to talk to some reporter at all. He supposes it's just his reporter tactics. It surely has nothing to do with his charming smile and alluring eyes and he way he accentuates his words with a thick accent.

"I can pencil you in at 10am at the ice rink," Yuuri says professionally.

The reporter raises his eyebrows.

"Ice rink?"

"They'll be practicing their dance or skate or whatever. Now just go before they see you," he says, practically pushing Victor out of the store.

"Alright,” he says with a wink. “I'll be sure to bring my skates."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all!! If you are enjoying, please leave a comment or kudos! It means so much to me!
> 
> Next chapter will have some Victor and Yuuri alone time ;) And if you know the Yuuri Week themes, you may be able to pick up what their "date" might be. 
> 
> Here is a reference for the [golden tuxedo](https://ae01.alicdn.com/kf/HTB1sOpALXXXXXbnaXXXq6xXFXXXf/New-2017-Men-Wedding-Party-Suit-font-b-Gold-b-font-Jacket-Groom-font-b-Tuxedos.jpg) JJ wears.
> 
> Here is a reference for the [grey tuxedo](http://68.media.tumblr.com/1ff2e147d2fee2d628c61127da73a0fa/tumblr_op5d20Lf3Z1rtjn7oo2_1280.jpg)
> 
> Follow my tumblr [@vodkawrites](http://vodkawrites.tumblr.com) for more updates, art, and other yuri!!! on ice content!!
> 
> See you all for Day 4!!


	4. On Ice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all are enjoying Yuuri Week! 
> 
> And today's theme is *drumroll please* ... On Ice! Yup! Reporter!Victor and Wedding Planner!Yuuri are still going to skate together on the ice. Not even different jobs could keep them away. After all, Victor is an ice skating reporter!
> 
> This was seriously one of my fave chapters to write! I love their struggle between remaining professional while also falling head over heels in love. 
> 
> Fun fact: I am posting this chapter at work! See what fanfiction does to me! LOL So I am so sorry for an errors or whatever else.
> 
> Thank you all for your continued support and I hope you all enjoy Day 4's installation!

"Ah, Mister Nikiforov. So nice to see you," Yuuri says with a fake smile.  He isn't exactly looking forward to speaking with a reporter and frankly he doesn't even know what to say.

He shakes Victor's hand customarily, trying not to linger on the fact that he is hand in hand with a gorgeous stranger. Well, he supposes they aren’t exactly strangers; they are probably classified as acquaintances at this point. Yes, definitely nothing more than professional acquaintances.

"Please, Yuuri, call me Victor," the reporter - Victor - says smoothly.

Of course the beautiful - no, not beautiful - reporter wants to refer to him by his first name. He tries not to think of how melodic his name sounds coming from his mouth.

Yuuri nods, trying to remain professional during this whole situation, even if Victor isn't. He doesn’t even seem to be taking this entire thing seriously. At least the first few times they had met, he was adorned in a customary, well-pressed navy suit. Instead, he is now in a grey Nike track suit that looks more like he came from the gym than a corporate office. Yuuri tries not to think about how good he looks in something so simple. To be honest, he isn’t sure that something so simple could look so good on the right body type.

Yuuri shakes his head, trying to dispel those thoughts from his mind. He will not ruin this interview for his clients by being distracted by a good looking reporter.

“Alright let's get this interview started.”

"Interview?" Victor asks innocently. He dramatically places a hand on his heart as if he is pretending that a knife has stabbed him between his pectorals.  

Yuuri only rolls his eyes, rather unimpressed with his theatrics.

"Yuuri, you wound me. I thought this was an ice skating date. I brought my skates and everything," he says with a cheeky smile. He holds up a pair of skates just to show how dedicated he is to believing that this is less like an interview and more like a date.

Yuuri narrows his eyes, glaring at the pair of skates. He expects to see the worn pair of skates from the rental desk - the hockey ones with frayed laces and blunted blades that seem to fit no one - but he is thoroughly impressed by Victor’s own pair. They are certainly in better condition than the rental skates at the rink, but Yuuri can’t exactly distinguish any of the finer details to determine their true value. He supposes the gold blade is enough to confirm his suspicions that they are some custom pair of expensive skates. However, he is far too bothered by the fact that Victor thinks this is a date to comment on the quality of his skates.

"You're hilarious," Yuuri quips dryly.

Victor flashes him a crooked smile. "I try," he says.

Yuuri doesn't give him the satisfaction of an answer - he hardly deserves one for being so absolutely impossible. Instead, he turns his focus towards one of the benches, setting himself and his skates down.

Victor follows his lead and sits down on the bench next to him. He is a bit too close for comfort - his arm is basically brushing against Yuuri’s - and it is distracting to say the least.

Victor lazily kicks off his shoes, not bothering to properly unlace them, before squeezing his right foot into the boot. He easily ties the laces with the precision only a professional could possibly be capable of having.

"I can't remember the last time I skated," Victor muses quietly. Yuuri can't tell if he is trying to make conversation or simply thinking out loud.

Regardless, Yuuri ignores that comment in favour of tying his own skates. Victor makes it so easy, but Yuuri knows it is a tedious process to get the laces tied right. He supposes that his is inherently harder given that they are a rented pair from the front desk and not his own (not that he would ever have his own pair willingly but it would be nicer than relying on rentals and possibly getting foot fungus). Yuuri can fully admit that they are hideous and probably more suited for hockey than figure skating. The laces are fraying at the edges and the left one is a bit too snug around his foot, but he persists. Besides, aren't skates supposed to be tight?

"Ready?" Victor asks, already standing up from the bench. He seems to balance himself easily, as if he has done this plenty of times before.

"No," Yuuri admits lamely. He still has another skate to tie, not to mention this one isn’t exactly tied that well to begin with.

"Here, let me tie them." Victor bends down onto one knee, leaning in to Yuuri's feet. 

Yuuri, however, kicks his hands away.

"I can tie them myself just fine," Yuuri snaps. He will not have someone - especially someone like Victor - tie his skates for him. He is an adult and adults don’t need help to tie their skates.

Victor raises both of his hands innocently but Yuuri knows he's anything but innocent. "Whatever," Victor assures him, obviously trying not to be offended by Yuuri's comment.

He straightens his back, watching Yuuri as he finishes tying his other skate. He doesn’t say anything but he continues to tap his bottom lip with his finger. Yuuri finds it annoying.

After what feels like twenty minutes of struggling (but is probably more like two) Yuuri wobbles as he stands but eventually balances himself on the carpet. He follows - or rather teeters towards - Victor and the entrance to the rink. Victor slides into the ice gracefully while Yuuri almost stumbles over his feet, trying to find his footing.

"Let us be clear," Yuuri begins, his voice low. He is sincerely trying to be intimidating, but he knows he is failing. It doesn't help that he has to have both hands grasping the wall just to make sure he doesn't fall face first on the ice. He silently wishes he had his sister or Phichit or anyone else conduct this interview for him. At least they wouldn’t be this embarassing on the ice.

"I can't say anything about the venue, the flowers, or their outfits Those topics are strictly forbidden. I also can't tell you who's invited."

"Wow," Victor says with a chuckle. He leans back, evenly distributing his weight onto the boards. He looks so natural on the ice, as if he's floating. Yuuri wonders how often he does this to be so comfortable on the ice. Or maybe it's just a Russian thing.

"So what  _can_  you tell me about this wedding?"

Yuuri taps his fingernails on the wooden boards. The sound creates a slow rhythm but he's not sure what song it is.

"I can tell you that the colours will be red and white," he explains, his face neutral. He refuses to have an fodder the reporter can use against him in his article. And he will certainly not lose JJ and Isabella as clients for that reason. 

Victor rolls his eyes. "How absolutely Canadian of them," he remarks.

"Or maybe they are popular wedding colours?" Yuuri suggests.

"Well they're also having half their wedding at an ice rink." He gestures to the ice rink with his hands. "That just screams Canadian to me."

Yuuri furrows his eyebrows. He doesn't exactly see it that way - JJ chose to have both his love for Isabella and his love of ice skating expressed during their wedding. What is so hard to understand about that?

"Well I think it's cute," Yuuri admits.

"I think it's stupid."

"You're telling me. They want their first dance to be a first skate, which is really the only reason I'm here. I hate skating," he confesses. He cuts up the ice with his toe pick for emphasis. He knows it's bad etiquette but he can't help but to do it.

Victor raises his eyebrows. "You hate skating?" he asks, almost surprised by this revelation.

"Well yeah. I'm a wedding planner not a professional athlete," Yuuri defends with a huff. 

"But you're planning Canadian skater Jean Jacques Leroy's wedding?"

"So? Doesn't mean that I automatically love skating. A job is a job."

"But don't you like how weightless you feel on the ice? How powerless you feel at the mercy of the ice?"

"No. And I don't particularly like falling in my ass," Yuuri quips and crosses his arms over his chest.

Victor juts his hip out and taps a finger to his bottom lip. "Well that's your problem. Fear of the unknown. It's common in beginner skaters."

Yuuri scowls, curling his lip as he does so. He doesn’t particularly like being talked down to like this, and by someone who probably knows nothing of skating to begin with. 

"Because you're suddenly an expert in skating?"

"Well why don't I show you?" he asks. 

He extends his hand out in front of him, practically begging for Yuuri to take it. It seems inviting enough.

However, he narrows his eyes at Victor's hand, skeptical that his friendly gesture isn't just some sort of sabotage. When has Victor ever done anything nice for him aside from offering to tie up his skates. How does he know Victor isn't going to take him to the middle of the ice and leave him to defend for himself all to have Yuuri end up with ice on his ass? How can he even trust him?

"Show me?" he repeats, the words effortlessly rolling off his tongue. 

"You know, loop around the rink? I used to know a thing or two about ice skating," Victor clarifies. He even puffs out his chest for emphasis. 

Yuuri blinks twice. He can’t be serious. It seems all good to be true: holding hands with a beautiful stranger, clinging on to him as he tries not to fall. What more could he ask for?

He begins to wonder if this truly is an ice skating date more so than an interview. 

"Alright," he agrees, reluctantly. He isn’t really sure why, although Yuuri insists it is his charming good looks and savvy charisma skills. Definitely not because he likes him or anything. 

"But if I fall, you're coming with me."

He places his hand in Victor's, entwining their fingers together. Yuuri notices that his palm is rather coarse, lacking the same soft and supple feeling as the back of his palm. He supposes it isn’t particularly a bad feeling - it is a rather comforting feeling - and he certainly appreciates how warm his hand is, if anything. 

Victor leads him around the ice, taking careful glides as he tries to keep up with his long strides. 

"You're pretty good," Yuuri praises as they finish one lap around. 

Yuuri can tell from the way Victor is leading him that he may know a thing or two about ice skating. It’s obvious that he is weightless on the ice, almost as if he is a bird preparing for flight. It seems almost natural like he is born for the ice. 

"But that doesn't say much seeing how I'm absolutely terrible," Yuuri quickly adds, trying to hide his praise under an insult.

"You're not terrible,” Victor points out as if it’s some sort of compliment. “I just have more practice."

“Oh really?" Yuuri challenges.

Victor smirks. He slicks his hair back with one hand, moving his bangs out of his eyes. "Let me show you."

He drops Yuuri’s hand, leaving him to balance himself on the boards. Victor easily loops around the outside of the rink, his feet crossing over each other as he skates backwards. To Yuuri, he looks rather professional as he does so. He gains speed as he rounds the edge for the second time. and performs a waltz jump. He poses in the center, his arm outstretched as if he is an Olympic performer. It’s rather sweet to see.

He waves at Yuuri, as if he's inviting Yuuri to join him.  

"Me?" Yuuri asks, pointing to himself. He knows Victor couldn’t be gesturing to anyone else - the ice is empty - but he cannot possibly think that Yuuri could skate to the center by himself.

Victor laughs. It's a sweet laugh, one that rumbles from his stomach and makes his Adam’s apple bob. Yuuri wants to hear more of that laugh.

"Yes, you, who else would I be talking to? The ice? Now, come closer."

Yuuri gulps but agrees nonetheless. He skates - or rather waddles - carefully over to Victor, one foot in front of the other. He wishes to mimic Victor's fluidity, they way he seems to dance instead of step on the ice, but it comes out all wrong. He isn't entirely sure how to glide without stumbling over his own two feet. His staggered movements make him look more like a penguin than he would like, but Victor just smiles as he approaches.

He isn't entirely sure how to stop either and instead continues to skate in Victor’s director. He easily takes the hint and catches him before he collides, their hands interlocked together. He likes the feeling of their bodies so close, mere centimeters apart.  

Victor steadies him, positioning Yuuri at the centre of the rink. Yuuri balances himself before letting go of Victor's hands.

“See you’re basically a pro!” Victor cheers as he steps back.

Yuuri glares at him. “Standing on the ice without falling doesn’t make me a pro.”

“Well, I say it does. And I was a professional ice skater, so I know.”

Yuuri scans him. Now it all seems to make sense: the custom ice skates, the jump, even the way he poises himself on the ice. Of course he is an ice skater.

He is certainly built like an ice skater - and at least has the grace and poise to be a professional - so he shouldn't be as surprised as he is. He is slender yet muscular with almost effeminate curves that make Yuuri’s mouth go dry. 

He knows little about skating in general - he has watched a bit of the Olympics but nothing more than that. He pictures Victor in one of those sparkly (and extremely tight) skating costumes. He can picture him in a white, feathery body suit, one that glistens under the stadium lights. 

"No way.”

"Yes way," Victor protests. He wipes a bead of sweat forming on his temple with the back of his hand. "When I was thirteen, I wanted to be an Olympic skater. I won a few competitions, too."

He grabs Yuuri's hand once more and guides him back to the boards. His hand is warm and a bit sweaty from skating, but it feels comforting the way their fingers seem to perfectly intertwine. Yuuri tries to ignore the way his heart seems to beat against his chest; he hopes that Victor can’t hear it as well. 

There is something about him that’s different. He seems almost vulnerable, so innocent and natural on the ice. It’s hard to believe this is the reporter who doesn’t believe in love.

Yuuri feels his his cheeks turn red.He supposes it’s only due to the cold; definitely not because he is flustered and blushing over ex-skater and current reporter Victor Nikiforov. 

Yes, definitely the cold.

Yuuri looks up at him through his eyelashes, admiring the way he provides him with a soft smile. "What happened?" he asks innocently.

He doesn't really know why he asks - he knows he shouldn't care about the personal life of a reporter, but for some reason he is quite interested (to say the least) by Victor. He’s mysterious and attractive and absolutely wonderful. 

Yuuri decides that he wants to know everything about him. 

"Life got in the way, I suppose," he says. He shrugs casually as if he doesn't mind the question in the slightest. However, Yuuri can tell the spark in his eyes is lost, his smile fading just slightly.

He hates that he asked.

"Skating is expensive as fuck, especially at a competitive level. And no one really wants to take a chance with someone who might never win a gold. Besides, I needed a more realistic career; one where I won't have to retire at age 20 from a major injury or whatever. When it came down to it, I liked journalism better but I guess I could never get away from the sport, huh?" he says, tilting his head towards the rink for emphasis.

“You know what they say. The cost of following your heart is spending the rest of your life wishing you had," Victor finishes. 

Yuuri blinks twice. 

"Huh,” he finally breathes out. “So it's the best of both worlds?"

"Just call me Hannah Montana, I guess," Victor says with a chuckle.

Yuuri laughs - genuinely and unabashedly laughs. He can’t remember the last time he has laughed like this. 

Victor clears his throat. "So...the wedding," he begins. 

Yuuri pauses. 

Oh, right.

The wedding.

JJ and Isabella.

The interview. 

"Yes," Yuuri agrees, collecting himself.

For a brief moment, he had forgotten that Victor is only here for an interview; that this wasn’t some sort of first date. He instinctively drops Victor's hand from his own, almost forgetting that his hand was even there. He silently misses how perfectly their hands seem to intertwine as the warmth from his hand lingers.

He feels empty.

"If you couldn't guess, the venue will have an ice rink. It's non negotiable," Yuuri states, icily. He tries not to be offended by Victor's rather abrupt switch from their personal dare he say intimate - prior conversation to his work. He dusts off some imaginary snow from his pants, averting his eyes from Victor's.

Victor snorts. "How very JJ."

"They'll be dancing to Partisan Hope," he recites almost mechanically. He doesn’t really care about the wedding or saying anything of interest anymore. "It's a beautiful arrangement."

"I'm surprised he's not dancing to that stupid King JJ song."

This time, Yuuri snorts.

"What? There's a song about JJ?" he asks. He's certainly never heard of any song called the JJ song and judging by Victor's reaction he is rather thankful that he has devoted himself to his work instead of listening to pop songs.

"You know the song that's like 'I'm the king JJ no one defeats me/this is who I am just remember me'," Victor sings. It's horrible and off-key which makes Yuuri wonder if that is how the song sounds or it is just Victor's terrible rendition. He sincerely hopes its the latter.

Yuuri stifles a laugh. He can't even imagine what a song called King JJ must actually sound like. He half thinks Victor is making up the song because he honestly cannot believe there is a song dedicated to his client but at the same time he isn't all that surprised. JJ seems like the kind of person who has a song like that written about him.

"It's pretty terrible. Come on, you've heard it. It played on the radio like 500 times in the past year."

Yuuri shakes his head once, his bangs falling in front of his eyes. "Sorry, I don't have time to listen to top 40s hits when I'm at work."

"You must work a lot," Victor points out.

He shrugs. He doesn't think that he works that much (as much as his sister and Phichit says otherwise). Sure sometimes he goes above and beyond (and maybe sometimes he works close to 80 hours a week) but it's only so he can create the perfect wedding. He expects the same for his own wedding, if not more. 

"Weddings take a lot of work. Rome wasn't built in a day," he reminds Victor.

"Isn't it stressful?" Victor asks. He exhales loudly, trying to emphasize just how stressful it must be. Yuuri however isn’t fazed by his forced dramatics. 

"Not really. It's kinda fun."

"Planning a wedding is fun?" Victor asks. Yuuri can tell that he’s obviously mocking his choice of words. 

"Yes," he states obviously., trying not to show that he is evenly remotely fazed.  

Of course planning a wedding is fun. What is better than deciding on all of the little details to make the most out of one’s biggest day? Picking out the cake, deciding on the flowers, buying registry gifts; it’s all rather entertaining to do so. 

Not to mention seeing them come to fruition is one of the most satisfying feelings in the world. When he watches the couple meet eyes at the alter, it is truly a magical experience. 

"Weddings suck."

Yuuri opens his mouth to refute, however Victor beats him to it.

"I just want this wedding to be over. Don't you?"  

Yuuri shrugs his shoulders. He’s never really thought about it that much. Sure it is a bit more stressful having to plan a wedding for a famous celebrity - and one that demands so much of him - but he wouldn’t say that he regrets it. In fact, he sort of enjoys the challenge.   

"Well,” he begins. “I suppose a successful wedding will lead to more exposure maybe more jobs-"

"No," he interrupts. "I mean the spectacle of it all. I don't know how you stand it."

Yuuri scowls. "I happen to like weddings," he protests. 

He cannot even fathom why - or how - Victor could even remotely dislike, let alone despise, weddings. Weddings are a time of celebration and bringing two people together. To hate that is like hating sunshine and puppies; it simply isn’t done. 

"Ugh," Victor groans. "Don't say that. I thought you were cool."

"Excuse me?" Yuuri asks raising his eyebrows. 

"Well weddings are awful. They're just a corporate scheme to squeeze money out of two happy people," Victor scoffs. 

"Or a way to join two people together," Yuuri corrects, optimistically. 

He can't believe he is even having this argument. He can understand one hating weddings, hating marriage even, but hating the very idea of love is unforgivable. _  
_

"So what do you think about Isabella and JJ?"

He blinks twice, trying to understand what Victor is necessarily asking of him. 

"I'm sorry, what?" Yuuri asks, dumbfounded. "I don't see how that's related.”

"Well I do,” Victor argues, pressing for some sort of information. “You say it's about love but what about JJ and Isabella?"

Yuuri shakes his head. "Mister Nikiforov-"

"Victor," he corrects curtly.

"Victor," he repeats, almost like a hiss, as if the word itself will cause some sort of disease just by saying it. He clenches his jaw at the sound of his name leaving his lips. "That's highly unprofessional."

He innocently holds his hands up in a mock surrender. "I just want your opinion. I’m not asking for your social insurance number.”

"Fine, I think they're cute together," Yuuri half-lies. Sure they seem to lack chemistry when they are together - although Yuuri is much more focused on Mr. and Mrs. Leroy than them to begin with - but he isn’t about to admit that to a stranger reporter just to get his sanctification. He’s above that. 

Victor rolls his eyes. He doesn't seem convinced by Yuuri's rather vague statement. Or maybe he simply knows. 

"Oh come on. They aren't cute together," he argues. He expertly leans his body weight onto the boards, someone making himself look casual. It only furthers to annoy Yuuri. 

"Oh really?" Yuuri asks.

He raises his eyebrows, waiting for Victor's explanation of the situation.

"Yes, Isabella is obviously just dating him for money," Victor points out.

"Are you blind? She loves him," Yuuri stresses.

From the few times they have interacted, they seemed rather happy together. Sure, he could understand if she is still dating him for his looks, or his personality, or some other shallow reason. But for the money? It’s so obviously not the case. Isabella is still with him because she truly loves him. Anyone who can tolerate his signature JJ style brand of annoying can’t be in it for just the money, no matter how rich he is. 

Besides, who is Victor - Mr. I Don’t Believe In Love - to say whether they love each other or not?

"Does she?"

"Why are you asking me that? You don't think they're in love?"

Victor shrugs. "No, I don't believe in love," he says casually as if he didn’t just admit that he doesn’t believe in love. He leans down and brushes some built up snow off the blade of his skate, swiping the slush off with two fingers. It creates a small mound of ice below his left foot, but he doesn’t pay any attention to it. 

"Don't believe in love?" Yuuri repeats back, as if to ask if he has heard him correctly. How could one not believe in love when it surrounds them every day?

“You heard me. I don’t believe in love,” he states, punctuating each word.

Yuuri looks at him - really looks at him. His confident smirk, his cocky attitude, the way he holds himself. He must be hiding something. 

Of course he believes in love; there’s just something that’s making him say that. Maybe it’s his twisted vision of masculinity or some divorce in his past that makes him think this way. Whatever the case, Yuuri is going to find out what it is. 

“You know what,” Yuuri begins. He straightens his back in an effort to look intimidating despite being a tad shorter than Victor. “I think this is all a smoke screen."

Victor snorts. "For what?"

"Well your hatred of love is all a lie. You know what it is? It's a defense mechanism. You don't want to take the chance to love something to have it taken away.” He takes a step forward. “You don't want anyone to get close to you because you're afraid of failure. It’s why you quit ice skating too, I bet.”

"Oh really?” he asks. He offers Yuuri a smug grin which only seems to entice him further. “Because after one date you know me so well?"

"Well I think I nailed it,” he says, trying to ignore the fact that Victor referred to this - whatever this really is - as a date instead of an interview. “You should just admit that you're a big softy and that this whole cynical thing is just an act so you can seem wounded and mysterious and sexy and-"

"Wait,” Victor interrupts with a smirk. “Did you just insult me and then call me sexy?"

"N-no,” Yuuri lies, adverting his eyes from Victor’s. 

He internally curses. Of course Victor is sexy, but he surely doesn’t need to fuel his rather large ego by outright telling him. How could he possibly let that slip? 

“I don't know why I'm arguing this with a stranger,”  he says, gesturing wildly with his hands. 

"We're not strangers."

Yuuri scowls. They are strangers - acquaintances at best. He knows absolutely nothing about his aspirations, his goals, his hatred for love. In turn, Victor knows absolutely nothing about him. And one interview/date isn’t going to change that.

"You know nothing about me."

"I think I know you better than you know yourself. You do everything trying to please everyone but the only person you're upsetting is yourself.  I think that you just plan weddings to hide the fact that you’re going to die alone. You live precariously through other people's lives because yours is too boring and miserable."

Yuuri stares at him, mouth agape - actually agape with his mouth hanging open. It’s obnoxious and a bit immature, but Yuuri can’t help but to do it. 

How could a stranger possibly be able to read him so well?

"I'm sorry,” he quickly apologizes. He runs his hands through his messy bangs, tugging on the hairs as he does so. “I’m so so sorry. I didn't mean that-"

"No,” Yuuri assures him. He holds up a hand to stop his incessant babbling. “It's okay.”

Victor steps forward in an effort to comfort him. He holds out his arms, hoping Yuuri will accept his embrace. 

Yuuri, however, takes one step back.

“I should go anyways,” he insists, coldly. “JJ and Isabella will come back and it’s better if I’m not here to spoil it.”

Yuuri opens his mouth to speak - to say anything to prevent Victor from leaving - but Victor is already gliding off of the ice.

"You're right, you know,” Yuuri mutters, softly. 

“About the date?” Victor asks, trying to make light of the conversation.

“About me,” he admits. He kicks up the mound of snow, spreading the ice crystals onto the rink.

Victor looks to the ground, hoping to find some answer there as well. 

“Well..if it makes you feel any better, you weren’t that far off about me either.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! If you have the time, feel free to leave a comment or kudos! They fuel me to post sooner (and take more breaks during work to get this done LOL).
> 
> They finally get close just to have it all ripped away. When will they learn? #hatetolovers 
> 
> Follow my tumblr @vodkawrites for more updates, art, and other yuri!!! on ice content!!
> 
> Get ready for Day 5 because it is going to get steamy (and there might be some tuxedo appearances)!!


	5. Eros/Fashion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry about the late chapter. It's still Day 5 somewhere!
> 
> Today's theme is Eros/Fashion. And of course, since this is a 27 Dresses AU, I needed to write the scene where Yuuri tries on his tuxedos. [This](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eiLeBJUf1iE%22) is the scene I am referring to! This is probably my favourite part/chapter so far!
> 
> I wrote this while listening to the beautiful new YOI OST! OMG guys the airport music breaks my heart! When you all get a chance, listen to it on spotify!
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this update!

Yuuri doesn't know how he ended up in a bed with Victor, their arms tangled together in a lose mess of limbs as the first streams of sunlight douse them in light.

Alright, maybe it isn't so unbelievable; he is gorgeous and charming and oh so sexy, not that Yuuri would ever admit that out loud.

The evening starts out rather boring. Like every Friday night, Phichit basically drags Yuuri out to some new club somewhere downtown. He says that Yuuri needs to "get out more" and "live your life", but he knows it's all an excuse to set him up on another blind date.

So he dons his tightest pair of black jeans and a low cut v-neck shirt before heading out for the night. He hopes his rather scandalous outfit could attract someone - anyone really. If anything, he hopes to get absolutely drunk. 

And that's exactly why Yuuri ends up sitting at the bar, nursing a vodka with soda. Clubs aren't exactly his scene, to be honest. He would much rather watch everyone else dance in a jumble of bright colours to some overplayed pop song.

A fun night out could distract him from the attractive, cynical reporter that somehow keeps plaguing his wandering mind. At least, he wants to spend a few hours not thinking about JJ or Isabella or weddings or anything work related. He deserves that much. 

He runs his finger along the rim of his glass, trying not to think about where (or who) Phichit ran off to. He silently prays it’s not that monotone guy with the thick eyebrows again.

"Yuuri?" a familiar voice asks over music. It’s hard to tell exactly who it is, but he knows he has heard that voice before. He hopes it isn’t one of his exes trying to relive their failed hookups.

Yuuri looks up from his drink.

Of course, he thinks bitterly.

Of fucking course.

Of all the places Victor Nikiforov could magically end up at it is this exact bar at this exact time. Call it fate or destiny or whatever romantic way to put a spin on this situation, but Yuuri doesn't believe it. He silently wonders if he is stalking him.

It's bad enough he swings by the office almost every day. Can he not even get one day off without seeing his insufferable face? 

"Victor?" he asks with fake innocence. Yuuri silently hopes its his bad vision or the alcohol that makes him think that Victor is at a club in tight leather pants with him. No, there's no mistake; it’s the same attractive reporter that has been in his dreams since they first met.  

Victor flashes Yuuri a smile - which arguably is sweet and innocent. But Yuuri knows somewhere in his inebriated mind that he shouldn't be falling for such a charming smile because behind that charming smile is a ruthless journalist who just wants to use him for a story.

"That's me," he says cheerfully. He pulls out the bar stool next to Yuuri and sits down a little too close for Yuuri's comfort.

"I know that," Yuuri bites coldly. He narrows his eyes, trying to come up with some justification to explain why they are in the same exact place at the same exact time. "But what I really want to know is what the hell are you doing here? Are you following me?"

It is a bit coincidental that Victor just so happens to stumble upon the same bar only two days after their last encounter that didn't exactly end on the best terms. Although, he supposes he can't exactly end of the best terms with a man who hates weddings and doesn’t believe in love and is basically trying to make Yuuri’s life a conflicted living hell.

"I already agreed to do the story," Yuuri hisses.

"No. I'm just trying to have a good time. Can I not go to a bar?" Victor asks.

Yuuri narrows his eyes, thoroughly scanning him. Through the dim lighting, he can still tell how absolutely drop-dead gorgeous Victor is. Maybe it's his slicked back hair or his warm blue eyes that make him so irresistible. Or maybe it's his outfit. His dark pink shirt is cut dangerously low, exposing much of his muscular torso, and his pants are a tight leather which leaves little room for interpretation. Or maybe it’s the alcohol that’s clouding his better judgement.

Whatever the reason, Yuuri wonders how long it would take to remove those clothes. He wonders what his body looks like glistening in the low light, his naked form straddling his waist. He wonders if he is loud, if he practically begs to be taken care of. His length wrapped around his mouth, begging for release -

Yuuri looks down at his drink in an attempt to hide his growing blush. Is it just hot in here or is it just him?

He stares down at the clear liquid, hoping for some sort of distraction from his rather intimate. thoughts. He knows he shouldn’t be thinking about those things, especially about someone who could never believe in love.

"Not this bar and at this time," he mutters.

Yuuri likes this bar, as much as he can like a bar to begin with. It has a friendly staff that likes to give discounts and pretty good drinks for its price. He doesn’t want to stop coming here just because Victor may or may not come here as well. 

Victor, however, seems unaffected by Yuuri's rude behaviour and instead offers a small laugh. "What else should I be doing on a Friday night?"

Yuuri can think of one hundred different things Victor could be doing on a Friday night: cooking a turkey dinner, seeing the newest terrible romantic comedy, tending to a loving wife? The possibility of coming to the same bar as Yuuri is rather low on that list.

He scowls. "I don't know! Writing another story about love you don't think exists."

Victor smirks. "So you've read my stories?"

"No...I never-"

Victor holds up a hand. "It's okay," he says with a cheeky smile. "I won't hold it against you."

"Fine," Yuuri breathes out. There’s no reason to lie about it anyways; Victor would surely (somehow) find out. He may as well tell him the truth when he is drunk than when he’s sober, after all.

"I'll admit it. You write the most beautiful things about ice skating."

"Thank you," he says with a charming smile.

Yuuri has a sudden urge to smack his face.

"So let me ask you a question,” he begins. He runs his finger over the rim of his glass, drawing small circles in the condensation. “Do you actually not believe in love and marriage and just pretend to be a cynic or are you actually a cynic who knows how to spin love to romantics like me?"

Victor lets out a light laugh. "Well I didn't follow that at all but I'm gonna have to go with the spinning crap. Marriage is stupid anyways."

Yuuri snorts. He knows it's unflattering but he does so anyways.

"How refreshing, a man who doesn't believe in marriage."

Victor holds his hands up in a mock surrender. "I'm just trying to point out obvious. I don't see why anyone would pay thousands just for one stressful night about losing all of your freedom."

"So original," Yuuri quips with a roll of his dark eyes. Of course a man as attractive and free with his sexual charms would say something so absolutely abhorrent about the idea of love.

He swishes his drink in his cup before taking another sip. The vodka tingles a bit on the way down which forces him to pull a face. Why did he order this again?

"Do you also tell people that your hair is platinum blond instead of grey? Or is that what you tell your wife to get her to sleep with you?" Yuuri mutters.

"For your information it's silver, not grey,” he argues. He even gestures to his hair for emphasis. However, under the dim lights of the club, it looks rather grey to Yuuri.

“And I don't have have a wife,” he adds, as if it is an after thought.

"Shocker," Yuuri mumbles into his drink. He takes another sip of his cocktail, this one long and calculated. It doesn’t sting as much as the previous one but it still leaves a slight burn in the back of his throat. At least that sensation is more pleasurable than this conversation.

Victor crosses his arms over his chest and huffs. It's kind of adorable - almost like a child, if Yuuri is being honest - the way his cheeks are puffed out and his bottom lip is pursed forward.

"Well either do you, Mr. I-Think-So-Highly-About-Love."

Yuuri pushes his stool away from the bar. “Are you mocking me? Because you can just leave."

Victor grabs Yuuri’s wrist before he can venture too far.

"Aw come on, I just got here. The night is young,” he insists. “Let me buy you a drink."

Yuuri looks down at his hand before roughly tugging his arm away. He isn’t going to be tricked by Victor’s cunning words.

"Absolutely not,” the rational part of his intoxicated mind supplies for him.

"Don't be such a spoil sport. I want to treat you. Plus you're almost out of club soda," Victor points out.

Yuuri looks down at his drink. How much has he had? He could have sworn it was full before Victor got here. And this is his second glass, after all. He shouldn’t be drinking anymore, not if he doesn’t want to embarrass himself.

"It's soda and vodka,” Yuuri corrects with a scowl. “For your information."

Victor tilts his head back and laughs at that. It’s a bubbly laugh, one that sounds rather genuine.

"Well then let me buy you a real drink."

Yuuri narrows his eyes at Victor. There are a million and one reasons

However, the irrational (and absolutely lovesick) part of him asks "you're not gonna let this go are you?"

"No,” he says, shaking his head. “I don't think so."

Yuuri lets out an exasperated sigh.

Alright, he supposes he may as well give in to Victor’s little game. One little drink isn’t going to kill him. After all, he will get free alcohol out of this at the very least. 

"Well if you insist on paying," he begins.

"I do."

"Just know I can drink a lot."

Victor taps a finger to his bottom lip, as if he's planning (no, reporters aren’t planning, they are scheming) something. Yuuri finds it endearing.

"Is that a challenge?"

"Maybe," Yuuri says. He takes his glass and down the entirety of his remaining vodka soda in one long gulp. He swallows, smirking triumphantly at Victor as he sets the glass down with a loud thud.

Victor grins and turns towards the bar keeper. "Two shots of vodka to start, please."

* * *

Yuuri isn't sure how they end up at his studio apartment but somehow they end up at his studio apartment. It’s a bit of a blur, if he’s being completely honest. After about four shots of pure vodka and what can only be described as dry humping each other on the dance floor, Yuuri thinks it's only polite to invite him home.

Besides, he isn't terrible company. Victor is rather funny and dare he say pleasant. Plus, he can hold his liquor much better than Yuuri can.

Victor is currently sipping on a glass of cheap wine Yuuri had tucked away in his fridge. It was a bottle he had received almost four years ago as a house warming gift and remained untouched until now. He thinks now is a good time as any to break out his fanciest (and only) bottle of wine. Besides, isn't wine better with age?

The two talk about nothing, about everything. They discuss their job, their families, their hopes, their dreams, their love for poodles.

And Yuuri drinks it all in. Yuuri could listen to Victor speak for hours. Maybe it's the alcohol (or some supernatural element) talking, but he remembers what he found so absolutely alluring about Victor. When he isn't being an intrusive reporter that has absolutely no class, he's actually rather seductive.

It is bliss.

"You have a nice apartment," Victor finally says, gesturing to the apartment with his wine glass.

Yuuri shrugs. He wouldn't exactly call it a nice apartment - it's bearable - but he wouldn't call it a nice space. It's a small three room apartment that doesn't offer much liberty to change. The main room is rather spacious, offering room for a living room, kitchen, and dining room.Towards the back of the apartment are two closed doors. The one towards the right is the bathroom and the other is his bedroom. He wonders if he will invite Victor to see it later in the night.

Yuuri doesn't say anything in response and instead just nods in agreement. He doesn't know if it the alcohol making him complacent or it’s just the long night. He doesn’t want to think about the raging headache he is going to have tomorrow morning at his meeting with JJ and Isabella. Heaven knows it’s hard enough to deal with them (or rather JJ’s parents) while sober...

Victor takes a long sip of his wine, draining the glass until it is empty. He peels himself off the couch and saunters (yes, actually saunters) over to the kitchen. He grabs the half opened bottle of wine in his hand but his eyes don’t seem to be focusing on the alcohol.

"Who's this?" he asks, gesturing to a photo sitting on the counter. He lifts it up to get a better look at it, scrutinizing the finer details.

Yuuri looks over the back of the couch for the photo he is referring to. He immediately recognizes it: an old photo of Yuuri with his childhood friend. He doesn’t know why he still has the picture given that he hasn’t spoken to her on almost six years, but it’s almost nostalgic to keep. He wonders what her life is like now.

"Oh, just an old friend," Yuuri admits absentmindedly. “Her name is Yuuko.”

Victor pours the red liquid expertly into the glass, making sure not even one single droplet falls onto the counter. He swishes it around in his glass, focusing on how sweet it smells instead of the conversation. 

"Your lover?" Victor asks, almost disinterested.

Yuuri shouldn’t be that surprised that Victor jumps to that conclusion. It’s only fair to assume that a picture with an attractive woman is probably a lover. He silently regrets not removing the picture before inviting Victor (or any potential dates) to his home. To be honest, he’s not exactly sure why he still has the picture of him and his childhood friend in his house but he does.

"She's married," he clarifies.

"Oh," Victor says. His voice returns to its usual cheer as he swishes the liquid in his glass. Victor tells him it's supposed to help with the aroma and figuring out its floral nodes, but Yuuri thinks it's bullshit (much like everything Victor does).

He sits down next to Yuuri. He is unnaturally close on the couch, to the point where it can’t be a coincidence. Yuuri can feel his skin brushing against his, his warmth leaving a slight tingle on his arm. It’s almost electric.

"Do you have a lover?" he asks casually. He casually - although it is anything but casual - snakes his arm over the back of the couch, resting his hand just behind Yuuri’s shoulder.

Yuuri furrows his eyebrows. He isn’t exactly sure where this question came from to begin with. Is Victor hitting on him? No, it can’t possibly be.

"No."

He leans in closer. Yuuri can smell the sweet aroma of cologne and red wine. He finds it inviting.

"Any ex lovers?"

"No comment," Yuuri mumbles, a bit ashamed. He doesn’t exactly want to admit to Victor that he hasn’t exactly had anyone in the past that he would even consider a lover. A fuckboy, a casual hookup, a childhood crush; but never a lover.

"Well I did. The last one was kind of a jerk but I kept him around cause he had a huge-"

"That's more than I want to know," Yuuri interrupts before Victor can finish that sentence. He doesn't want to think about Victor's ex lovers and their rather well endowed packages. He wants to enjoy his polite company and not think about how experienced he truly is.

Victor doesn't seem offended in the slightest. He even provides Yuuri with a laugh before relaxing into the plush couch.

Yuuri watches Victor’s eyes, enjoying the way they flutter as they find something to focus on. They land on the window and Yuuri can tell he isn’t necessarily paying attention to anything out there moreso trying to avoid everything in here.

“So what  _do_  you want to know then?” Victor asks, crossing his left leg over his right. 

“Anything,” Yuuri breathes out.

“Well, I have a younger brother,” he begins with a wave of his hand. Yuuri appreciates that he chose to keep the conversation lighthearted and away from their past relationships.

He laughs a bit, but Yuuri isn’t exactly sure why.

“I can’t believe I haven’t noticed this before; his name is Yuri too.”

“No way.”

“I’m not kidding,” he insists with a smile. “Although he spells it with one U instead of two.”

Yuuri leans his weight onto the arm rest of the couch. “Any other fun facts?”

Victor shrugs. He takes another sip of his wine before admitting “I’m also allergic to dogs.”

“I thought you said you have a dog," Yuuri argues. Not that he knows or anything; it’s just that Victor wouldn’t shut up about his precious dog on the walk home from the bar. 

“A poodle,” Victor corrects. “Doesn’t have fur.”

“I had a poodle too,” Yuuri says softly.

There is an awkward pause. Yuuri isn’t sure how to continue the conversation, and it seems neither does Victor. How does one continue a conversation after bringing up their dead dog?

"So...wedding planner..." Victor finally drawls out, breaking the deafening silence. 

"Mhm," Yuuri hums in agreement. He doesn’t really have any comments on his profession and on a night like tonight, he would much rather enjoy his company than discuss his work. There are plenty of other things to be talking (or doing) this evening that didn’t consist of talking about his job.

He would prefer they talk about his dead dog more than this.

“What did you want to be before wedding planner?” he continues. He runs his finger over the rim of the glass, absentmindedly creating circles on the side of the wine glass. 

“I always wanted to be a wedding planner,” Yuuri admits honestly. “Since I was ten.”

“No you didn’t,” Victor protests with a roll of his blue eyes. He nudges Yuuri on the shoulder with his wine glass. “Come on, there has to be some embarrassing thing.”

“Nope,” he says, obnoxiously popping his ‘p’. “I always wanted to be a wedding planner.”

“Then you must be pretty good at it.” Victor pauses to take a long sip of his wine.“You’ll have to plan my wedding, you know if I ever have a wedding.”

Yuuri leans backwards. he rests his arms behind his head almost smugly.

“So now you’re thinking about having a wedding.”

“I never said that,” Victor defends. “I said I would want you to plan it,  _if_  I have a wedding. Cause weddings suck. How'd you even get started in such a terrible business?"

Yuuri shrugs his shoulders. "Helped out with my friend's wedding. Turns out I'm pretty good at it."

"Oh really. I thought there'd be some tragic backstory, if I'm being honest,” Vicyor says, almost disappointed by this. He takes another sip of his wine, this one much shorter than the last. “You know, living vicariously through other's lives just to hide how lonely you really are.”

“Well if it makes you feel any better, the first wedding I helped out with, she ended up getting a divorce from her husband  after six months and is now dating a woman,” Yuuri explains, trying to deflect Victor’s comment. “But other than that, I’m pretty boring. I just like my job.”

"Oh?"

"It's fun. I'm basically a paid best man. It's got a lot of perks,” he says, waving his hand in the air. “Like free outfits."

Victor raises his eyebrows. "You get free tuxedos?"

"Of course. I’m not gonna pay for them."

"You must have an impressive collection then,” he says, his voice low. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip.  “Show me."

"Mmm...you're not trying to get me to strip for you?" Yuuri asks, his voice low. He usually reserves this particular voice for the bedroom, when he has his partner’s wrapped around his fingers, but there’s no reason waiting for that when he obviously has him enticed already. And looking by the bulge in his pants, it’s rather obvious.

"That's reserved for the third date," Victor says with a wink.

He runs his finger down Victor’s cheek, sensually, before tapping him on the tip of his nose.

"That's if I keep you around that long," Yuuri flirts back. He isn’t sure why he is even flirting with Victor - it is probably a breach of so many protocols and would probably be fired if anyone found out about this - but he does so anyways. He isn’t going to let their work get in the way of a little bit of fun. Besides, what JJ doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

"Why are you going to torture me?" Victor teases.

"Only if you're into that," Yuuri quips.

Victor swallows audibly.

Yuuri smiles and slides off the couch. He motions for Victor to join him towards the back of the house with his index finger. Victor sets aside his wine glass in favor of following Yuuri.

He leads him over to his bedroom. It’s a bit of a mess at the moment, but he isn’t too concerned about that. Instead, he gestures his guest over to his walk in closet. It’s a rather large space, especially for someone who prides himself on being rather minimal, but it’s necessary for the copious amount of tuxes he has collected.

He opens the double doors, revealing the closet to Victor. He immediately pulls out the tuxedo hanging in the middle.

"This is my favourite tux," he announces as he closes the door to the closet behind him. He presents the blue tuxedo to Victor, puffing out his chest.

It’s a rather well-made suit, one of the custom suits he had made tailored for him. The double breasted jacket is a  beautiful shade of baby blue with one set of buttons towards the bottom of the jacket.The matching slacks are a dark black that hug his legs snugly but still leave a comfortable amount of room. It is to be worn with a blue bow tie that Yuuri keeps stashed away in one of his drawers. It is by far his favourite tuxedo out of the bunch and he wishes he had more chances to wear it.

"A blue tux?" Victor asks. He doesn't sound too impressed, in fact he almost sounds disgusted by Yuuri's choice.

However, Yuuri pays no attention to his negative tone. Blame it on the alcohol or some sort of attraction he has for the suave man, but Yuuri only shrugs his shoulders at his criticism.

“What can I say? I like blue," he admits with a sneaky grin.

He wants to add that Victor's eyes are blue because they are the most beautiful blue he has ever seen, however he bites his tongue and refrains from making a complete fool of himself with a poorly constructed flirt.

“Oh come, you've got to have a better suit in here,” Victor insists. He reaches for the handle on Yuuri’s closet door, desperate to see more than one tuxedo.

Yuuri widens his brown eyes, panic building.

"No! Don't look!" he exclaims. through laboured breaths

He stands in front of the door, his hands outstretched to prevent Victor from gaining any access to the closet. He knows it's childish and that he could easily snake his hands all he wants, but he hopes this will at least hint to Victor to leave the closet alone. There are some things he would rather not have Victor (or anyone) see.

"Why?" Victor asks. A confident smirk grows on his face. "What are you hiding? Don't tell me you have some sexy lingerie."

Yuuri feels his face turn red at the mention of sexy lingerie. "Nothing just-"

"Then let me see," Victor presses.

"No-"

Despite Yuuri's protests (which in Victor's defense are pretty weak, even if Yuuri is drunk), Victor snakes his hands around Yuuri and opens the closet door. There, practically bursting out of the small closet, are twenty seven different outfits.

Victor gasps, audibly gasps. “Wow! It’s amazing!”

“Thanks,” Yuuri says with a small blush. 

Victor scans the closet.

“Oh my gosh! What is this?" Victor asks as he unhooks one of the hangers from the closet.

Yuuri mentally face palms. Of course Victor has to find that first. Of all of his embarrassing tuxedos - which there are plenty of - it has to be that one. He couldn’t have picked out his pink tuxedo or even the tiger striped suit. Oh no, it has to be this.

"In my defense it was a themed wedding," Yuuri argues. He crosses his arms over his chest, trying to defend himself against this monstrosity. He needs to throw that one out immediately.

Victor snorts. "What was the theme? Humiliation?"

"Las Vegas," Yuuri bites back.

He snatches the hanger out of Victor’s hands and away from his prying eyes. He doesn’t exactly want to explain why he has such an offending object hanging in his closet. It just so happens that Yuuri actually liked that wedding, even if he particularly doesn’t like the tuxedo (if he can even call it that). It’s nothing more than a pair of boxer briefs with a tuxedo print on the front and little else on the back.  

All he remembers being absolutely mortified and waking up the next morning with a raging headache and pictures of him dancing on a pole. It’s safe to say those are deleted, but the memory still haunts him to this day.

Victor lets out a long and exasperated sigh. "Don't you have anything good?"

Yuuri pauses.

Now that Victor mentions it, it seems that he doesn't exactly have the best selection of tuxedos. 27 weddings and he has nothing good to show for it...

“This one isn't bad," Yuuri says optimistically. He shuffles through the closet for one of the tuxedos stashed towards the back. It’s a dark green tuxedo with a leather jacket. It’s not the best tuxedo - hardly what Yuuri would want to wear - but it’s definitely not the worst.

Victor, however, pulls a face. "What color is it?" he asks, obviously not impressed. “Vomit?"

“It's Reseda green,” Yuuri corrects. “It was a big colour last year.”

Victor lets out a chuckle. "No wonder you like that blue one so much. All of these are shit!"

"They are not"  Yuuri defends. He definitely has some nice tuxedos in there - he honestly thinks it is rather tough to mess up a tuxedo to begin with.

Victor pulls out a white and blue striped tuxedo, holding it out for Yuuri to see. 

"You were saying?"  he asks with a smug grin.

"Okay that one's bad,” he decides. 

Yuuri can’t disagree with that one. It is rather hideous with its cropped pants and boater shoes (not to mention the rather outdated striped pattern and off-white base colour). He wishes that he never brought up his tuxedo closet.

"Of course,” he agrees. He waves the suit in the air, wrinkling the jacket in the process. “No one wants to be outdone by their wedding planner so they always put you in something ugly to put you on the same field as them.”

Yuuri blushes, his cheeks turning a bright red. Is it hot in here or is it just him?

He can’t help but to wonder if Victor actually means his words. He supposes there are a number of rational reasons that Victor had said something like that. His mind easily supplies a few: He wants to get close to Yuuri to get information; He is more drunk than Yuuri realizes; He has an affectionate personality; He genuinely finds Yuuri an attractive person.

Definitely not the latter.

There is absolutely no possible way someone of Victor’s caliber could ever find Yuuri attractive. It just isn’t possible.

"Just put it away,” he says in an attempt to deflect his praise. He doesn’t exactly want to put anymore unnecessary attention on him at the moment, thank you very much. Seeing his tuxedo stash is enough embarrassment for an entire decade. And a compliment about his looks is more than he can tolerate at the moment.  

“Alright, alright,” Victor says. He holds his hands up as if to show that he is innocent; it does little to help his cause. “No need to get all uppity.”

Victor hangs the suit back in its rightful place towards the front of the closet. He scans the closet once more for good measure. He runs his hand along all of the tuxedos before stopping at the last one.

"What's this one back here?"  Victor asks as he holds up the end of some black tulle. 

Yuuri recognizes that material immediately. He internally cringes, praying that he will not bring any attention to that particular outfit.

"It's nothing,” he argues, pulling Victor’s hands away from the offending outfit.

However, Victor doesn’t seem to get the hint and persists.  

"It doesn't sound like nothing,” he insists with a smug grin. 

"Don't!"  Yuuri shouts. He tries to get between Victor and the closet, but his slender body and intoxicated state does little to block his view. 

Victor, however, ignores his helpless pleas. He tugs the outfit out of the closet, admiring its design. It’s obviously not a tuxedo, that much is certain. 

"Wait, you wore a dress?" Victor asks. His eyes glance between him and the dress, trying to imagine Yuuri in the outfit. 

If Yuuri wasn’t already blushing, he sure is now. His face is flushed a deep red, reaching from his shoulders all the way to the tips of his ears. He feels warm, as if he just dove head first into a hot spring. 

He wishes he could die here and never have to think about that mistake ever again.

"It was for a lesbian wedding! Everyone wore dresses!"  Yuuri defends, before Victor could make any harsh comments.

He snatches the black dress from Victor’s hands, making sure it did not get ruined in the process. He particularly likes that gown, despite it being rather unconventional. The top is a see-through, sleeveless mesh that extends just below his collarbone. The bodice itself is laced with gems and stones that glisten off the florescent lighting. The gems extend towards the bottom of the dress, creating a prominent ballgown shape. 

"Oh now I have to see you on this," Victor requests. 

"Absolutely not,” Yuuri replies, crossing his arms over his chest. He will not model off a dress in front of a man he barely knows, let alone Victor. Who knows what terrible things he would say about it.  

"What if I show you a picture of me ice skating when I was a kid? I had really long hair, down to my waist. That would be fair."

Yuuri lets out a long sigh, which sounds more like a groan if he is being entirely honest. He knows he isn’t going to win this battle; he can’t exactly resist his doe-eyed look and charming puppy-dog smile.

Besides, he is a bit interested in Victor’s failed skating career (and he is a bit curious how he looks with long flowing hair) and if this is the only way to see his embarrassing photos, then so be it.  

"Fine,” he agrees reluctantly. He taps Victor on the tip of his nose. “But no peeking."

"Alright, I promise."

For good measure, Victor covers his eyes with his hands. It’s childish but Yuuri finds it rather endearing, even if he knows he is watching through the small slits between his fingers.

Yuuri begins to pull down his pants, stripping down to his boxer briefs. He discards his shirt over his head, in one swift movement. He steps into the gown, pulling the gown over his waist until it fits snugly on his body. It’s a bit of a tight fit - he has definitely grown a bit outward since the wedding - but it’s not uncomfortable. From the reflection in the window, Yuuri surprisingly thinks he looks rather good.

“Okay, you can look."

Victor removes his hands from his face, adjusting himself to the site. He takes a long look at Yuuri. drinking in his beautiful form. He opens his mouth in shock, gaping at how wonderful he looks in a dress.

”You're beautiful,” he states, taking one step closer to Yuuri.

Yuuri’ feels his face turning warmer at Victor’s praise. He doesn’t think he particularly looks good in a dress.  Especially not this dress. It does little to flatter his natural curves - the ballroom shape taking up most of the room - and it is a bit too excessive for him. 

"Am I?"  he asks, unsure of the answer.

He looks up at Victor through his lashes, hoping for an honest answer. He wants Victor to laugh, he wants him to tell him this is ridiculous and that he should try on something else. Anything but that he looks beautiful in a ballroom dress.

Instead, Victor breathes out “Yes.”

He snakes his hands down Yuuri's back, resting one of his palms over his round bottom and the other on his hip. Yuuri enjoys the feeling of his body so close to his, drinking in his musky cologne and red wine scent. He wishes he could stay like this forever. 

"Let me take you out tomorrow,” he says, his voice laced with seduction.“Properly."

Yuuri pulls away, taking one step back from Victor’s grasp. He wants to so badly say yes. Victor is wonderful and perfect and absolutely charming. 

But he is also a reporter who is probably just looking for his next big story.

"Victor, that wouldn't be right,” he settles on saying. He chews on his bottom lip hoping that Victor would protests.  

“Of course,” Victor agrees with a nod. He forces a smile but the disappointment is obvious in his voice."Well what are you doing right now?"

There’s a small part of his brain that tells him to lie, to say he is busy, to give any excuse. He’s feeling sick, he doesn’t like Victor, he can’t get it up; anything!

He must be rational about this. He has to think about what it is he truly wants. 

He wants to be with Victor.  

"Whatever you’re doing," he admits, the words flowing out easier than he wants them to. 

“Well I’m going to kiss you and make love to you on your bed.” He steps forward, whispering the last part in Yuur’s ear. “And if you behave, I’ll let you wear that tuxedo thong.”

Yuuri leans in and kisses Victor, their mouths parting open. It’s not the best of first kisses - it lacks the usual chaste touch - but it’s passionate and desperate and extremely erotic. He lets out a low moan, his tongue dragging down Victor’s neck, leaving a strand of saliva as they part. Victor is panting, his breaths laboured and heavy. He eyes the bed, motioning for Yuuri to join him there. 

Yuuri doesn’t exactly know how they ended up in bed together, but he doesn’t regret it for a moment. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this chapter! If you could leave a kudos/comment, that would be much appreciated!
> 
> Follow my tumblr [@vodkawrites](http://vodkawrites.tumblr.com) for no other reason than to see even more YOI content (and the occasional update). 
> 
> [Here](http://68.media.tumblr.com/a053a0e3729410e7d9d3c42e8f3cd1c6/tumblr_op5dp9a0HH1qd99c3o7_1280.jpg) is Yuuri's blue tuxedo. It is from the Wedding Collab so I had to reference it.
> 
> [This](http://i.ebayimg.com/images/i/140938015855-0-1/s-l1000.jpg) is the tuxedo underwear Yuuri is referring to.
> 
> [Here](https://68.media.tumblr.com/07d4e3f3b0da163f88e5eea4d66a3923/tumblr_op5f11SEoe1um2cvko2_500.png) is Yuuri's green tuxedo. This is Otabek's tuxedo which is one of my favourites in the collection (even if Victor doesn't agree)!
> 
> [This](http://68.media.tumblr.com/127fd0f530a539a0999e12df25b448df/tumblr_op5dp9a0HH1qd99c3o4_250.jpg) is the striped tuxedo! It is Phichit's from the collection! I'll be honest, I don't particularly like the cropped shorts but I love the pattern!
> 
> And, of course, [this](http://imagesmtv-a.akamaihd.net/uri/mgid:file:http:shared:mtv.com/news/wp-content/uploads/2017/02/GettyImages-645637900-1488155465.jpg?quality=.8&height=1057.934508816121&width=800) is the dress I am referring to for Yuuri's ballgown. I saw it at the Oscars this year and I was like "this reminds me of Yuuri's eros outfit". 
> 
> Tomorrow's theme is "home" so get ready for angst central!
> 
> See you all tomorrow!


	6. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for posting so late and all. I had to work late yesterday so I just got this done. I'm not exactly happy with how this turned out, but I finished it.
> 
> Today's theme is "home" and it's not so subtly referenced throughout this whole chapter. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!
> 
> PS: I won't have Day 7 up for a while just because of my work schedule. I'm sorry for not finishing for Yuuri Week but please be patient! I will finish as soon as possible!

Yuuri wakes up in the morning with a raging headache. He really shouldn’t be surprised by now; it’s been three consecutive weekends that this has happened. Waking up in Victor’s arms, his back pressed against Victor’s chest and his hands tangled in his hair; it feels like home.

He really doesn't want to be at the office by 10AM - if he were being honest, he doesn’t want to be anywhere at 10AM - but he rolls out of bed regardless, careful not to disturb Victor.

Victor, however, stirs a bit.

“Don’t leave,” Victor mumbles with a yawn.

“Victor,” Yuuri drawls out, turning to face the reporter - his lover, he mentally corrects himself, not  _just_ a reporter. He thinks by now, it is safe to assume that they are lovers. They have spent every moment they aren’t working with each other, after all. 

Yuuri groans. “You know I have work.”  

He peels himself off from the bed and walks over to his drawers. He picks out a neatly folded collared shirt, a brown sweater, and a pair of black slacks. It’s not the best outfit he could choose, but he supposes the only person he has to impress is already sleeping in his bed, demanding that he stays.

“Mmmm,” Victor hums. “Let your assistant do it. You need sleep. You’ve done enough for their terrible relationship.”

“No,” Yuuri disagrees. He turns around, hoping for some privacy as he changes into his work clothes. He knows it’s immature to even do so - Victor has seen him naked on multiple occasions (and the  love bites that litter his skin only further prove so) - but he does so out of habit.

He pulls of his (or rather Victor’s) over sized t-shirt  and discards it onto a growing pile on the floor. He’ll clean it later - or at least that what he tells himself. 

“You just want me to stay home with you.”

Victor rolls over onto his side. He props his head up with his arm, resting his head on his palm. His hair is tousled from the rough sleep, platinum strands sticking out in every direction. It looks rather adorable to see him look so disheveled; it’s something Yuuri doesn’t exactly mind waking up to.

“That doesn’t sound that bad, does it?” he asks with a smug grin. 

Yuuri turns around, sliding his arms through the sleeves of his collared shirt.

“No, it doesn’t,” he agrees. Regardless, he continues to dress himself, buttoning the first few buttons of his shirt. 

“Then lay back down,” he says convincingly. He pats what is now considered Yuuri’s side of the bed once, motioning for him to come back to bed. “JJ and Isabella can go one day more without , trust me”

Yuuri rolls his brown eyes.

“No. I have a job to do. Unlike some people,” he mumbles mockingly. 

Victor pushes himself up onto the palms of his hands, sitting in an upright position. The blanket slips down his chest, revealing his naked chest. It’s not exactly unflattering - actually it’s quite the opposite - and Yuuri is grateful for the sight.

“I’m sorry I can’t cater to JJ and Isabella every second of my life,” he quips sarcastically.

Yuuri playfully sticks out his tongue. “Yeah, but it would be nice to actually see you work for once in your life.”

“Hey!” he defends. He pouts, sticking out his bottom lip much akin to a child. “I’m supposed to have an article come out soon.”

“Then go work,” Yuuri quips with a smirk.

Victor stretches out his legs, his toes spreading apart as he does so. “It’s off season.”

“Then go spend it at your own home instead of lazing around in mine,” Yuuri says, motioning for the door. He doesn’t exactly want Victor to leave - quite the opposite actually; he wants nothing more than Victor to stay forever - but he would much prefer Victor tends to his own home and his own life. 

“What if I said this is my home?” he asks with a sly grin. 

Yuuri pauses from buttoning up his shirt.

“Victor, we’ve known each other for a month,” he begins rationally. Sure, one day he would like to agree with Victor - to have his apartment become  _their_  home with three poodles running around and maybe a child or two - but for right now, he is content with their lives as they are. 

“Forty five days, Yuuri,” Victor corrects, licking his lips. “Forty five days, twenty hours, seventeen minutes, and fifty one seconds.”

Yuuri cocks his hip to the right, giving Victor and unimpressed look.

“Now you’re just bullshitting,” he claims with a roll of his eyes. There is absolutely no way that Victor - Mr. I hate love and will never admit that I am in love - has been keeping track of how long they have known each other, down to the mere second. Even a romantic like Yuuri isn’t that obsessive. 

“No,” Victor insists. “I remember clearly when I met my boyfriend.”

Yuuri stills.

Boyfriend?

Did Victor just refer to him as his boyfriend?

Yuuri has never had anyone refer to him as a boyfriend. Yes, he has had many lovers, but that’s all they were: casual hook ups with no strings attached. But a boyfriend (a genuine boyfriend), is something he has never even considered. And with the most wonderful man in the entire world?

He must still be dreaming.

“Well if you want to see your  _boyfriend_  later tonight, I suggest you go home and make yourself presentable.” He picks up his pillow and throws it as Victor. Victor easily deflects the pillow from hitting him square in the jaw. 

“Besides, you should go tend to your dog. I bet she’s dying to see you.”

Victor rips the blankets off from his body revealing his completely naked body. It’s pale and glistens in the morning light, the love bites still raw from the night before. It only incentives Yuuri to stay. 

"Aw but Yuuri, it’s a Saturday,” he pouts, giving Yuuri his signature puppy dog eyes. He stands up and walks over to Yuuri’s side of the bed. He easily wraps his arms around Yuuri’s frame and hangs on him limply. 

Yuuri forces him to stand upright, trying to get him to stop clinging to him. He will not be swayed by his cute pout and longing eyes, no matter how irresistible they are.

“Doesn’t change the fact that I have work to do. Rome wasn’t built in a day,” he reminds him. He pokes him in between his eyebrows for good measure. 

Victor sighs and stands straight. 

"But Isabella and JJ can wait,” he says, his voice low and sultry. It is usually the voice he saves for the bedroom, when Yuuri is on the verge of a climax, but he supposes he can use it now as well.

“As can you,” he breathes out, trying to echo Victor’s sensual.

“I don’t think I can!” he complains, dejectedly. 

Yuuri shakes his head. “I know you can.”

“Eight hours without you? What ever will I do?”  he asks dramatically. He places a hand over his heart, pretending that he has just been struck there by cupid’s arrow. 

Yuuri rolls his eyes at his theatrics. 

“You have to stay home and tend to my wounds!” Victor demands. He even holds out his arm for Yuuri to inspect, as if he is actually going to find something physically wrong with it. 

Yuuri narrows his eyes at his arm before twisting it over. As he thought, no visible wounds. 

He drops Victor’s arm and replies smoothly “you’re fine. Now go write your article. You said you’re supposed to have one come out soon.”

Victor lets out a defeated sigh, one that is long and winded. He knows is pleas are futile in convincing Yuuri to stay. 

“Yeah, you’re right,” he agrees finally. “But I’m coming back at six for our date.”

He hums in agreement. “Come back then.”

“Alright,” he agrees with a wink. “I’ll make sure to bring more orchids.”

“Stop it, I have enough,” Yuuri insists, a small blush growing on his cheeks. Victor - in all of his extra theatrics - continually brings flowers  after every night they have spent together. Everything from roses to sunflowers to even orchids, Victor has gifted. Yuuri swears his house is going to become a garden at some point. 

“No one can have enough flowers, especially not my beautiful boyfriend.”

Victor locks his arms around Yuuri’s neck, pressing their bodies against each other. He nuzzles his head in Victor’s shoulder, drinking in his smell; it’s a bit musky and not all that pleasant, but he likes how natural it is.

Yuuri gives him a peck on the cheek before pulling away. It has become a comfortable routine, waking up with Victor and giving him a goodbye kiss. And no matter how many times he does it, he wants Victor to keep him close.

“Put on some clothes and remember to lock the door.”

“I’ll see you at six.” he calls as Yuuri walks out of the apartment.    

He shuts the door behind him, walking away from his home - no, their home. 

He likes calling it their home. 

* * *

Yuuri steps into his office, immediately making a b-line for his office. He doesn’t exactly have much time before JJ and Isabella are supposed to arrive (he would have more time if someone didn’t distract him). He hopes he can at least get a few more things done before they arrive. 

However, he realizes that is obviously not possible when he spots them waiting in the main room. Isabella, JJ, and his parents are all patiently sitting on the furniture, tapping their fingers on their phones.  Phichit is chatting to them excitedly about the upcoming season, but stops once he notices Yuuri arrive. He easily excuses himself back to the main room, leaving Yuuri alone with his clients. 

"Oh, you're all early,” Yuuri says, a bit taken aback. They usually aren’t the kind of family to be early to events - usually coming about ten to fifteen minutes late to every appointment - so it is a bit jarring to see them up on a Saturday morning before he has even had the chance to make a cup of tea. He wonders if Victor had kept him occupied for so long. 

He pulls at the frayed edges of his sweater, continuing to stand in his doorway. It’s always awkward when his clients arrive before him, but he won’t let that bother him. Not when his morning has been so wonderful. He doesn’t think anything - not even JJ’s bothersome parents - could ruin today for him. 

"Don’t worry about it,” Isabella assures him with a small, albeit forced, smile. 

Yuuri nods, rather pleased that they didn’t have some nasty comment about his late arrival. He takes it as an invitation to walk into his office, gesturing for the family to follow. He turns on the lights and walks over to his desk. 

“I’m sorry for the tardiness. I hope I haven’t kept you waiting too long,” Yuuri apologizes instinctively. He sits down at his desk, turning on his computer. He waits for the log in screen to show up before expertly typing his password. 

He pulls up their file on the computer. It doesn’t have that many documents in it for a couple whose wedding is nearing a half of a year away, but he supposes they only started planning it one month ago. Besides, at the rate they are working, he is confident he will have everything done in time.

He opens up the schedule, looking for today’s date. He quickly finds his notes about what needs to get done. It is mostly minor things such as picking the meals and choosing items for the registry.

He has never liked picking out items for the registry. He finds it is mostly useless items that couples typically only use once. He wonders if he wants a registry. Or rather if Victor would want a registry to begin with. 

No, this isn’t about his wedding with Victor (if he even decides that he wants to marry Victor because that is very far in the future). This is about JJ and Isabella and he will not be unfocused by his wandering mind. 

“Today we are registering items, correct?” Yuuri asks, looking over the top of his computer monitor. 

He notices that they are all standing uncomfortably close to his desk. It’ is a bit jarring to see the entire family standing instead of taking their usual seats - JJ and Isabella on one couch and the entourage of uninvited guests on the other. 

“Actually we’re here for something else,” JJ confesses. He looks down at the floor, a much different attitude than his usual cocky demeanor.  

Yuuri pauses from his search, pushing up his glasses further up his nose. He looks over at the family a bit confused by the situation. He doesn’t exactly know what they are talking about. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t make note of those changes,” Yuuri apologizes, instinctively. He knows he is not the one to blame for this short term change, but he chooses to apologize anyways. 

"Yuuri, did you read the paper this morning?" JJ’s mother asks with an unreadable expression. She taps her fingernails on the back of her plastic phone case impatiently. 

"No...” Yuuri answers. He narrows his eyes, wondering how reading the paper has anything to do with planning a wedding. Maybe one of Victor’s articles actually got published in it. He genuinely hopes so; he sincerely loves reading his stories, even if he has absolutely no interest in ice skating or in JJ. There is something about the way he writes that absolutely enthralls Yuuri.

“I didn't know anyone still reads the paper,” he continues honestly. He assumes that reading the newspaper is outdated (he is surprised that Victor even still has a job in such a dying field). 

"Well you should,” JJ’s father lectures. “You're in it." 

“Me?” Yuuri asks, cocking one eyebrow. A few situations immediately come to mind: maybe Phichit promoted their company or maybe there is an article about his last wedding. Or maybe Victor finally released his article about their wedding. 

 “Why?”

“Read it,” JJ’s mother insists. She digs in her large tote bag for something - presumably this morning’s paper. She holds out the newspaper (yes, an actual physical copy of a newspaper) out for Yuuri to read. She watches from over the top of her thick glasses as Yuuri takes the paper in his hands and opens it.

He glances at the words on the page. There, the largest article on page 3, is a picture of JJ holding a blonde woman by the waist. He is directly smirking at the camera as if he knows the picture is being taken but the woman’s face is turned away. 

The connotation is clear.

"JJ's relationship is on the ice,” he reads the title out loud. At the very least, it is a clever title. 

“Keep reading,” JJ’s mother urges, her tone cold and bitter. 

Yuuri scans his eyes over the article. It goes into detail about JJ’s rather public relationship with some unknown female and his supposed adultery with his fiancee Isabella. He doesn’t really see how he plays in to this at all. 

He gets past the first paragraph when JJ’s father interrupts him. 

“Reports from their wedding planning company I Love Yuu say that Jean-Jacques and his finance have cold feet,” he recites perfectly. 

“Wait what?” Yuuri asks. He immediately scans the article in search of his company’s name. There, as plain as day, is his company’s name along with a quote. 

"JJ’s mother slams her hands down on his desk. “Do you know who told?" she asks, looming over him. He tries not to be intimated by her looming figure, but it is rather hard not to be discomforted by her intense gaze. 

Yuuri holds up his hands in a mock surrender. "I'm not sure!" he assures her. He isn’t exactly who would have told about JJ’s intimate sex life let alone someone at his company.  

"It's trending all of social media,” JJ’s mother says. She pulls out her phone and taps on it once with her long fingernails. She turns the screen around to show Yuuri the trending topics on her twitter feed.

Yuuri squints at the bright screen. The first one is some government hashtag about the prime minister’s trip to Japan which Yuuri figures has nothing to do with the conversation and ignores it. The second hashtag is something about the Montreal Canadiens winning another game which again is just a popular topic and has nothing to do with the couple, the wedding, or Yuuri at all. 

The third, however, is the one she is referring to. 

#JJBellaBreakup: 8.6K tweets.

"Well you should consider yourself lucky the family's lawyer doesn't get involved. We could sue you for this."

"Mom, chill,” JJ begins in a warning tone. He places a hand on her shoulder, hoping that the gentle gesture will somehow calm down his mother. 

“We’re not breaking up. It’s just lies,” JJ confirms. 

"Besides, Yuuri would never tell anyone that,” Isabella defends. Her eyes flicker between JJ and Yuuri as if they are looking for some sort of confirmation. “He knows better than to trust a slimy reporter, right dear?"

"It was probably the receptionist. He seems rather nosy to me," JJ father mutters under his breath. “You really should fire him.”

“Dad,” JJ complains with a whine. “There’s no reason to call people out like that. It’s obvious Yuuri had no part in this. Besides, what’s done is done and we should focus on the wedding.”

JJ’s mother lets out a long sigh. She pinches the bridge of her nose with her hand. 

"JJ is right. his isn't the time to blame people! We'll just talk to Victor about this."

Yuuri feels his world shatter. 

Victor.

Victor?

Everything seems to crumble around him. He can feel himself spiraling as if he is no longer in his own body. 

Just an hour ago, his life was perfect. He had a stable job doing what he loves and a boyfriend who likes to spend time with him. He was finally happy. 

And now, he has nothing. 

In just a few words, he has lost everything; his less than successful career, his lying boyfriend, and any chance of having a happy life. 

Yuuri feels his chest tighten, his heart constricting as he tries to inhale calmly. His breaths come out unsteady and laboured, as if he is underwater and the waves continue to crash over his head. He silently wishes they would take him to the depths of the ocean. 

He feels sick, as if the bile building in his throat has to expel somewhere. He wants to leave, wants to be anywhere but here.

This mess is all his fault. He is the one that told Victor that they may not love each other; he is the reason this article is published. 

He should have never trusted him to begin with. He should have never let him in. He should have never trusted him with his heart.

“Victor?” Yuuri asks innocently. He tries to hide the sound of his voice cracking, hiding any signs of tears. 

He will not cry over this.

He prays that they are talking about another Victor. There has to be other Victors in the world. One that also happens to know JJ and Yuuri and writes articles in the newspaper about how much love doesn’t exist.

He desperately clings onto the hopes that is some sort of misunderstanding; anything that can destroy his doubts. 

“My reporter,” JJ clarifies as if Yuuri should already know this fact about him. “You know, grey hair and Russian accent. He usually does sports articles about me. Wonder who got him to do something so ridiculous. _”  
_

“Victor’s boss probably got him to write this before the season starts cause the work must be slow,” Isabella rationalizes with a nod.

Yuuri tries not to listen, tries to block out all of the negative words.

Victor would never sell out for a dumb paycheck. He would never.

Would he?

Maybe he doesn’t know his supposed boyfriend as much as he thinks he does.

“I guess this is what people want to read because their lives are so miserable they have to ruin everyone else’s, right?” JJ’s mother says, picking at her fingernails. 

Yuuri feels his heart stop. 

It all makes sense.

It all makes sense now. Why he always turns the conversation towards his job, why he’s always asking for opinions about JJ. He doesn’t actually love him; he is only using him for some article to further prove his point that love doesn’t exist.

Yuuri doesn’t think it’s that far off.

“Yeah, but maybe we can spin this. All publicity is good publicity,” Isabella reminds the group. She optimistically claps her hands together, trying to make light of the situation. Yuuri should be grateful for it, but instead he finds her positive attitude fake and unwanted.

JJ shakes his head. “It doesn’t mater. What’s done is done. We should just go and talk to Victor about this.”

JJ's father inhales through his nose, bringing Yuuri back to reality. "You're right,” he agrees, rationally. “We should go talk to him before this becomes a bigger problem then it needs to be. We will be seeing you soon.”

“Y-yes,” Yuuri chokes out.

Yuuri ushers the family out of his office, watching them go. He waits until all of his clients are gone before collapsing onto his desk. He sets his glasses on the desk before letting out a loud sob. He knows it is undignified to cry at work, but he does so anyways. 

"Yuuri!” Phichit calls poking his head through the opening in the door.

Yuuri freezes. 

Of course Phichit has to walk in now of all times. 

He immediately tries to wipe away his tears. He knows his sweater is doing an absolutely poor job of cleaning anything, but he rubs against his cheeks anyways. He prays Phichit doesn’t notice, or at least doesn’t say anything.

He just wants to climb into his bed - preferably without the source of his misery still sleeping in it - and maybe eat an entire tub of ice cream to drown his sorrows away. Or really, he just doesn’t want to be anywhere but here.

 _“_ I just saw Isabella and JJ leave so I’ve gotta know the truth! Is it true they are breaking up?” he asks, animatedly waving his phone for Yuuri to see. “I saw all over social media! Apparently you know so you’ve gotta tell me! My followers need to know.”

Yuuri doesn’t speak. He lets the silence talk for him. 

“Yuuri?” Phichit asks, the concern obvious in his voice. He seems to notice his discomfort as his usual cheery smile fades into a slight frown. 

“It’s fine,” Yuuri strains himself to say. He knows it must sound terrible, but he says it anyways. Hopefully it is enough to sway his friend.

He scrambles to clean his face with the back of his sweater. He knows it is only making his face and eyes look more puffy and red, but he does so anyways. 

“Come in,” he chokes out. 

Phichit reluctantly agrees, walking closer to Yuuri. 

“So,” he begins, drawling out the word. He sits at one of the office chairs in front of the desk, as if he is a client. He even crosses his legs, trying to remain as neutral as possible. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” Yuuri says, hiding his face in his hands. He doesn’t particularly want Phichit to see his red cheeks and tear stained face, not when the wound is still so fresh. 

“Yuuri...” he warns, his patience running thin. 

He knows that he knows; Phichit somehow always seems to know. It seems that he can read Yuuri like an open book, no matter how closed he may think he is.

He hates that he knows.

“I’m gonna kill whoever did this!” Phichit yells, standing up from his chair. He balls his hands into fists, his knuckles turning a ghostly white. 

“Phichit...” Yuuri whines. 

“No,” he argues, swiping his hand in the air. He paces back and forth in the office as if he is trying to formulate his course of action “I’m not kidding. No one hurts my best friend!”

Yuuri sighs. He knows Phichit can be a bit overprotective, but this is going to far. He doesn’t even know the situation and yet he already wants to help. 

“Thanks, but I’ll deal with it myself,” he says, brushing off his help. He doesn’t to drag Phichit into this situation just because he caught him crying at work. It’s Yuuri’s problem and he should solve it by himself. 

Phichit scowls, unconvinced by Yuuri’s declaration. “And by deal with it yourself, you mean fly back home and work with your parents at the onsen instead?” 

“Phichit,” he warns. He doesn’t want him to do anything he will regret later. He would much rather tell him details about their wedding or breakup than to discuss this.   

“Yuuri,” Phichit challenges. He rests his weight on his left leg, jutting out his hip to exaggerate just how annoyed he is with Yuuri’s dismissive attitude. 

Yuuri exhales. He flops onto the desk, his arms splayed out over the edges. “What am I supposed to do? My career is ruined.”

“No it’s not,” he assures his friend. He walks around to the back of the desk and begins to rub soothing circles on Yuuri’s back in an attempt to comfort him. Yuuri just wishes he would leave him alone.

“This will blow over,” he finally reminds him. 

Yuuri sits up straight, turning to face Phichit. 

"No it won’t!” he shouts. He feels his breath coming out in shaky gasps, his words barely intelligible. 

"Why not?” Phichit asks, cocking his eyebrow. “No one reads the paper.”

Yuuri’s shoulders tense. 

“It’s not that easy!” he argues. He balls up his fists, his fingernails digging into his palms. They leave little crescent shapes in the skin, but Yuuri doesn’t mind.

“Why not? I could take on JJ,” he says with a confident smirk. “So what if he’s like a head taller than me. I know cross fit!”

Yuuri looks to the window. He dwishes it could be this easy, he wishes he could blame JJ and have the whole ordeal done with. He wants to move on, to not be so invested in something that obviously could have never worked out to begin with. 

“It’s not JJ,” he admits.

Phichit pauses.

“Then who is it?” he finally asks. “Isabella?”

Yuuri feel his lip quivering, unable to get even one word out. It’s pathetic the way he he can’t even say his name. He wishes he could forget about him. 

Phichit inhales through his nose. “Is it that reporter guy?”

Yuuri looks down, unable to face Phichit’s disappointed look as he nods once.

“Fine I’ll kill him,” he says, anger boiling in his words. “He ruined your career!”

“Not just that,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “He’s been using me.”

“Using you?” Phichit repeats back, as if he doesn’t understand.

“I’ve been seeing him.” Yuuri inhales sharply. “Sleeping with him,”  

“Oh now I’m really gonna kick his ass. No one uses my friend for sex and gets away with it!”

“Phichit!” he exclaims, hanging his head in shame. It’s bad enough to admit that he may have feelings for him, but it is absolutely mortifiying to tell his best friend that he has been sleeping with the one person that is causing him so much pain.  

“It’s true! “ Phichit defends with a scowl. “He’s an absolute douche. He doesn’t know what he’s missing out on. He’s lucky to even be in the vicinity of you!”

Yuuri forces himself to smile. He knows Phichit can tell it is fake, but he smiles anyways. “Thanks, Phichit.”

“I’m not kidding! You’re perfect!” he assures him. ”Besides, you don’t need him in your life.”

“You’re right,” he says. He forces the corners of his lips upwards, attempting to smile for Phichit’s sake. “I’m perfectly happy being single and alone.”

Phichit lets out a long breath. 

“You’re not alone,” he assures him. “You have me and Minami and that cake guy you had a one night stand with.”

Yuuri groans. 

“Yeah, but this is different.”

“Why?”

Yuuri doesn’t want to answer that. He doesn’t want to admit how much he has let his heart control his mind. He is supposed to be rational, trusting his logical mind over everything else. He isn’t supposed to fall for such charming smiles and good looks. 

He swallows before saying “it just is. And you know what? I should’ve seen it coming.”

Yuuri looks down at his lap. 

“He’s been using me,” he repeats. “It all makes sense now. He’d always ask me about my career and my opinions on the couple. I should have known.”

“It’s not your fault. And you don’t need someone like him, anyways,” Phichit assures him.

He places a hand on his shoulder, but Yuuri immediately shrugs it off. He doesn’t want Phichit’s pity or sympathy; he just wants to cry. 

“He even said he doesn’t believe in love,” Yuuri mumbles. 

Phichit wraps his arms around him comfortingly.  His friend, thankfully, says nothing, and just rubs his back in soothing circles. 

Yuuri finally gives in. He lets out a loud sob, burying his face in Phichit’s shoulder. He hates the way his tears are staining his friend’s shirt. He hates how ugly and pathetic he must look right now. And above all else, he hates that he still cares so much about Victor when he obviously doesn’t care about him.

His sobs eventually turn to heaving breaths, his eyes too dry to expel anymore tears. 

“Ugh, men,” Phichit finally sympathizes with a shake of his head. 

Yuuri lets out a laboured breath. 

He should have never trusted Victor. He should have never agreed to his wants.

Worse of all, he should have never trust his heart.

Yuuri wipes away his tears with the back of his palms. He wishes the salty tears would disappear but it only leaves him with small stains on his rosy cheeks. 

“And the worst part?” he asks through his sobs. 

Yuuri looks up at Phichit. Phichit only looks back at him with wide eyes. 

He doesn’t want to admit it; doesn’t want to say the words because he knows that if he says them, then he will know it’s true.

However, his body seems to betray him. 

“I still think I love him.”

* * *

Yuuri doesn’t want to go home. 

Well he wants to go home, he wants to snuggle up in his blankets and block out the world for the next 100 years of his pathetic life. He wants to watch terrible romantic comedy movies and scream at the actors for not realizing their mistakes sooner. He wants to eat an entire tub of ice cream and some leftover takeout until he falls asleep, never to wake up and face reality again. 

He wants to go to his home.

But he doesn’t want to go to  _their_  home. 

He knows Victor is waiting. Victor is always waiting for him. Victor is probably holding a bouquet of orchids as he always does, wearing his favourite navy suit as he waits to take Yuuri in for a kiss. 

He wants to walk away, to spend the night at Phichit’s or his home in Japan or anywhere but their apartment.

He has to face him at some point, rather do it now then let it fester, delaying then inevitable. Even if flying to Japan and helping out with his parents sounds oh so tempting right now. 

"Yuuri!” Victor exclaims when he notices Yuuri walking up to the apartment. He stands up from the sidewalk and dusts off his navy slacks. He holds out the bouquet, ready to pull Yuuri in for an inviting kiss. “I'm so glad I got to see you!"

Yuuri stops only a few meters in front of him. He keeps his distance, making sure to avoid all contact with him.

“Please,” he pleads, his voice small. He holds a hand up, making sure he knows not to touch him. 

He doesn’t want to say it, doesn’t want to tell him what he knows. He wants to live in the fantasy where Victor loves him - even if it is all fake. He’s happy this way, and maybe they can make it work. 

“Go away,” he finally musters up the courage to say. He feels his heart physically clenching as he says those words.

“Yuuri?” Victor asks, cradling the bouquet in his hands tighter. 

Yuuri hates that he says his name, hates how absolutely beautiful it sounds coming from his lips. He never wants to hear Victor say it again. 

“I thought you wanted me to pick you up for our date?” Victor asks, his eyebrows furrowed. He instinctively checks his watch. “Am I early?”

Yuuri looks at him miserably.

"Victor, why?" he manages to ask, his voice small.

Yuuri looks to the floor, memorizing the cracks in the sidewalk. He can’t seem to look into Victor’s eyes as he says it. He makes it so complicated. 

"Why what?" Victor asks, his voice soft.

"Explain this," Yuuri says.

He reaches into his front pocket and grabs his phone. He opens his twitter account and clicks on the #JJBellaBreakup tag. It’s already up to 20K tweets. 

Victor looks violated. His eyes flick between the phone and Yuuri;s face, as if this is the first time he is hearing about this nonsense. 

Yuuri scowls. 

Victor has not right to act like he is the victim. Not after he uses him for an article, tricks him into sleeping with him, and then has the audacity to pretend that he is innocent of it all. 

Yuuri feels an anger wash over him, one that he is not sure he has ever felt before. He physically wants to hurt Victor, wants to slap him - anything that will make him feel the same way he does. But he doesn’t think any physical damage will ever mimic how hurt he feels.

"Look,” Victor begins rationally. He takes open step closer to Yuuri, trying to amend Yuuri’s broken heart. But Yuuri supposes no amount of words will ever fix his shattered heart. “It's not what you think-"

"Victor! You used me!"

“Yuuri,” Victor begins. He leans in to wrap his arms around Yuuri. 

Yuuri resists his embrace and roughly shoves him a feet steps back.

“You used my words! “ he argues. Tears begin welling in his eyes, building up before spilling over onto his cheeks. ”You published an article slandering JJ and Isabella! You used me to get ahead in your career and ruin their relationship all because you’re a cynical bastard that doesn’t believe in love.”

“Maybe at the beginning but I swear I didn't mean to!"  Victor defends.

Yuuri feels his tears continue to slide down his face, reaching his chin before dripping to the ground.

"You didn't mean to?” he asks, mocking the very words Victor used. “Did you mean to start trending on twitter? Did you mean to use my company's name? Did you mean to ruin my career?” 

Victor inhales through his nose. “Just let me explain,” he pleads. Yuuri think he looks pathetic for even suggesting something so simple. 

“Did you mean to steal my heart?"

Yuuri inhales.

"Did you even love me?" he whispers, hoping Victor wouldn’t hear him. 

Victor pauses, running a hand through his hair. He looks desperate, as if he trying to find an answer to an unsolvable problem. 

"Should I just kiss you to prove it?" 

"No!” he shouts. He can feel the hot tears streaming down his cheeks in thick globs. He feels unattractive, the way snot pools under his nose, but he doesn’t care.

“You shouldn’t have to prove anything!” 

"Yuuri-"

"You said you were going to get the story but I didn't think you'd stoop so low as to pretend to fall in love with me!" he says darkly.

"It's not like that!” Victor defends, almost pleading at this point. It’s desperate and low, even for Victor. He has no incentive to lie anymore as there as no more articles to write. He should just confess so they can move on; there’s no reason to make it more difficult than it needs to be. After all, it’s not like he actually has feeling for him to begin with. 

“You don't understand!"

"I do understand,” he insists. “You thought it would be easy to fall in love with the one person's who so desperately wants to be loved. And now I open up just to have myself hurt?"

"Yuuri, just listen to me-"

"No,” he shouts, his voice louder than he expects. “Just go home. You got what you've always wanted. It's over."

"Yuuri," he calls out miserably.

Yuuri ignores him and walks into his apartment.Yuuri feels hollow, an empty feeling in his chest. He tries not to dwell on the sound of his own heart shattering. 

He slides onto the floor of his apartment, curling his knees to his chest. He begins to sob into his hands. 

He just wants to go home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this mess of a chapter! Please leave a kudos/comment!
> 
> I apologize for any mistakes and errors; I will fix them tomorrow morning!
> 
> Next chapter will come out soon so please be patient! I'm sorry I'm so late for Yuuri Week! The theme is Stammi Vicino and there will be a happy ending!


	7. Free

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Technically, it's still August 6th somewhere so I'm not too late for Yuuri Amnesty Week(end)!
> 
> Here is the not-so-epic conclusion to 28 Tuxes! It's sappy, it's cliche (it''s poorly written), but it is finally here!!
> 
> I'm not exactly happy with it but I'm so tired and I haven't had time to write because of work (and my stupid computer broke so blame that). 
> 
> Today's theme is free. I took this super literally and went for "free" as in freedom, America flying eagle free. I hope you like it!
> 
> Thank you once again to all my supporters! Every single one of you who has taken the time to read, give kudos, bookmark this, and even leave a comment; you are all the best people on this planet! 
> 
> So as to not keep you all waiting...here is the final chapter!

Yuuri can’t stop thinking about him.

Yes,  _him_ , because he refuses to even speak his name.

It’s been a week (five days, fourteen hours, seventeen minutes, and thirty seconds, not that Yuuri has been counting or anything). As much as he hates to admit it, it feels almost foreign without him. 

His apartment is eerily quiet, lacking the telltale sounds of  _him_  shuffling around. He misses the way he would whisper sweet nothings in his ear after a long day of work. He misses his beloved pet poodle who would often stay over at the apartment. He even misses his obnoxious snoring and incessant blanket stealing. 

As each day passes, he seems to miss him more, as if everything around him is purposefully trying to remind Yuuri of him: black leather, the smell of red wine, winter, even the lawyer’s cologne.

After a week of dealing with lawyers - which Yuuri quickly realizes is more overwhelming than any television drama has ever made it out to be - trying to absolve him of any relation to the article, his company has been pardoned from any connection to the article. While there is some damage to his reputation, it is only temporary - or at least that is what the lawyers have convinced him. And they are right, in some respects. Not many people have even seen the full article before it was pulled - nobody really reads the newspaper - so his company could always regain its momentum, especially after the Leroy-Yang wedding. 

However, JJ and Isabella aren't as lucky. The news of their breakup has spread from blog plots to social media sites to news broadcasts. Everywhere Yuuri seems to look, there is another conversation about JJ and Isabella's rather unconventional relationship. Everything from "Isabella is a lying bitch who is only after his money" to "JJ is a greedy whore who can't keep it in his pants" to even “JJ and Isabella are genetically modified aliens here to learn about human mating rituals”. (Yes, someone has speculated if they are aliens.) 

Yuuri tries to ignore all of the drama as best as he can. 

For now, all he can do is focus on the wedding at hand. So if that means waking up at seven in the morning on a Saturday to drive out to some flower shop with Isabella, then so be it.

“What do you think of these?” Isabella asks, standing in front of one of the planters. 

Yuuri stills. 

Orchids. 

Of course it’s orchids. 

He coughs, trying to hide the tears begin to pool up in his eyes. He shouldn’t be so caught up about a month long relationship - if he can even call what ever he had with Victor that in the first place. He has leftovers in his fridge longer than he’s seen Victor! (He really needs to take those out before they start to stink up the fridge). 

So why does he care so much?

It seems that no matter what he does - and he has seriously tries everything from eating away his worries to binge watching anime - he can’t escape from Victor. 

 “They’re beautiful,” he replies lamely. He knows it doesn’t sound convincing in the slightest, but he tries to fake his interest for her. It's the least he could after ruining her life, after all.

Because Isabella doesn’t deserve any more negativity, especially after the release of the article. Even if he doesn’t want to be here; even if hewants to be cuddled in his bed with his only bottle of wine, drowning his sorrows in a binge watch of J-dramas.

He will put aside his desires for Isabella. It’s what he does best. 

“Oh, that’s good to know," she chirps, a smile spreading onto her lips. She takes out her phone and snaps a picture of the flower, making sure to capture the perfect angle. She taps on her phone, sending the picture to JJ for his opinion before tucking her phone in her pocket and walking to a new set of flowers.

 This has been going on for hours. Yuuri wishes she could be more decisive. The fresh scent of flowers and dirt is becoming overwhelming. 

She stops in front of a stand of a pot of carnations. They have yet to start budding but Isabella is interested all the same. Yuuri knows that they aren't exactly common flowers, especially not for a wedding. 

"These are nice, right?" she asks innocently. 

 Yuuri squints at the tag, trying to read the name. " _Dianthus caryophyllus_ **,**  or carnations," he recites easily. They aren't traditional wedding flowers - they are often deemed as slightly poisonous - but they are beautiful regardless.

"Oh, I don't know if the family wants those," she admits. She turns to Yuuri before asking "what do you think?" 

"There are other flowers if you want," he tells her absentmindedly. He picks at the skin around his nails, finding someway to occupy his attention than the flowers. 

"That's good!" she says with a simple nod. 

She looks down at the flowers, her eyes fixated on the carnations before walking towards a row of roses. Yuuri follows her, hoping that roses will please her high expectations.  

Isabella exhales through her nose, loud enough for Yuuri to hear. "It’s just that I’m so nervous, especially with the whole scandal and all,” she frets. 

“What do you mean?” Yuuri asks naively. He knows what she means - he wouldn't have to deal with lawyers and press and JJ’s parents if he didn't.

Isabella sighs and begins to walk down the row of roses, her hand grazing the petals of each one as she does so. She stops in front of a bouquet of white roses, her hand teasing the petals. Her fingers expertly avoid the thorns when she picks up one of the roses and twirls it between two of her fingers.

She doesn’t look at him when she asks “do you think I’m making the right choice?”

"With the flowers?" Yuuri asks innocently. He knows she's not referring to the flowers, but he tries to keep the mood light and casual. He doesn't exactly want another repeat of last week's fiasco. 

Isabella lets out a nervous laugh. “No. I mean, do you think I’m too young to be getting married?" 

 Yuuri pauses, unsure of how to proceed. It isn’t until Isabella voices her frustration that Yuuri really thinks about it. 19 is basically a child, after all.

There are two real routes he could take. For starters, he could lie like he always has, trying to be much more safe than possibly offending his clients. He could tell her that 19 is a perfectly acceptable age. His last clients, his childhood friend, even his parents got married are ages even younger than JJ and Isabella. Besides, lots of people are married before they even reach 18, so he really shouldn’t be so shocked by this at all.

Or, the second option is that he can let out his silent thoughts. He can scold her and remind her that 19 is a rather young age to get married; that she should pursue a job and a degree before even thinking about marriage. 

"No, you’re never too young or old to love,” he settles for. It doesn’t exactly answer the question, so he glances at her to see her reaction.

Isabella, however, doesn’t seem convinced. She turns around to face Yuuri, her eyes locking onto his. 

“Well how old were you when you fell in love?” she asks curiously. 

 Yuuri stills. 

He doesn’t know the first time he fell in love. He supposes he could say age five when he fell in love with his family’s katsudon. He supposes he could laugh and reply with age ten when he fell in love with planning weddings. Isabella would find some humour in that, at least. 

But the age when he fell in love with someone he wants to marry? That’s not as clear. 

He supposes if Isabella had asked a week ago, he would’ve said 24. And if he is being honest, he should say 24. He wants to say 24, he truly does, but he isn’t sure he can say that anymore. Honestly, he’s not sure he believes in love anymore. 

Yuuri picks up a lone orchid by the stem. He turns it around, admiring the long stamens and curved edges of the petals. He knows it’s the same flowers Victor insists on gifting to him. 

He shakes his head, trying to rid himself of any traces of Victor. 

“I haven’t been in love yet,” he chokes out, as if his body physically doesn't want to say it. It should simple response, one that shouldn’t elicit too many questions. It is an innocent question after all and he hopes that they can talk about something else. 

 “Oh Yuuri, it’s okay,” she assures him. 

She places a hand on his shoulder comfortingly. Yuuri relaxes trying to find some solace in that, at least. If anything, at least he has whatever is left of his career. 

“You’ll find someone,” Isabella continues. “And when you do they can be your plus one.” 

Yuuri looks to the ground. It’s tiled with a layer of dirt on it and some flower petals. He tries to avoid her worried look as he brushes some of the stray dirt around.

He thinks about how he had a plus one, once upon a time. He is - rather was -charming and stunning and absolutely perfect. But he is a thing of the past.  

He knows he shouldn’t be thinking about him as much as he. They may have kissed, went on a few dates, and at one point called each other boyfriends. He would hardly call that much of a committed relationships. He’s had a longer - possibly more intimate - relationship with strangers than he did with Victor.

So why does he stay awake at night, longing to be loved again? Why does his heart ache at the mere thought of Victor Nikiforov? 

Why is he so miserable without him? 

“Oh no, I’m not interested right now,” he admits. 

He plays with the edges of his sleeve, his hands tugging at the loose strings. He wants to yank every thread from the shirt, letting the shirt unravel until it is nothing more than unusable pieces. He supposes it would be one more thing to add to the ever expanding list of things unraveling around him. 

“Don’t be shy. You’re a handsome guy with a steady job and anyone would be lucky to have you,” she encourages.  She clasps a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to be comforting. 

Yuuri only stills, his muscles tense from the contact. He doesn’t think he physically can trust anyone with his heart again. 

Not after Victor.

Isabella, however, doesn't seem to get the hint and keeps her hand on his tense shoulder. "How about I set you up with one of my bridesmaids?” she asks, giving him a slight nudge. “I think you’d like Evgenia. She’s a skater like JJ.” 

“Oh, err,” Yuuri sputters. His face flushes, his entire face turning an embarassing shade of red. “I’m not-” 

“Oh, you’re gay,” she interrupts, covering her hands over her mouth. “I’m sorry!” 

“It’s okay,” Yuuri assures her. He offers her a smile out of courtesy to show that he is hardly offended by her assumption, but it is unbelievably fake and forced. He wonders if she will notice. 

He wonders if she has even noticed how different he has been acting in general. Even someone as dense as JJ has to have noticed by now. 

Yuuri is empty. 

He silently wonders if his life has always been this empty. He wonders if he has been so immune to it all. He wonders how he hasn’t noticed before. He supposes sleeping alone in bed, having no one to wake up to will do that to a person. 

He just needs time to readjust to that, however impossible that may be.

She doesn’t seem to notice because she continues by asking “how about I set you up with JJ’s reporter. He’s mighty handsome and pretty famous too. I hear he has a thing for wedding planners. I think his name is Ivan or Victor or something really Russian.” 

Yuuri swallows. 

Of course she has to bring him up. 

Of fucking course. 

Of all the possible people Isabella could possibly set him up with, it has to be the one person he is trying so desperately to avoid. 

"I’m sorry but I don’t think we’d get along,” he chokes out, trying to hold back from crying.

It’s stupid and immature - he knows that it is - but he can't help but feel the tears begin to pool in the corners of his eyes, threatening to cascade down his face. He pushes up his glasses in a feeble attempt to stop his tears (or at the very least, try to cover them with his large lenses). He isn’t going to cry over Victor, not in a flower shop, not in front of Isabella, not ever. 

Victor doesn't deserve his tears. He is nothing more than memories that will fade into oblivion. 

“Besides, I have more important things to worry about,” he quickly deflects. 

Isabella tilts her head to the right. 

“Like who is sitting at which table and whether these flowers will be able to come in time,” Yuuri explains. He forces a smile, hoping his lazy transition is enough to deter the conversation away from his failed relationship.   

“Oh Yuuri,” she begins. She offers him a small smile, one that doesn't reach her eyes.  

Yuuri’s smile dims. 

"You’re too thoughtful.” She bounces on the balls of her feet before adding "but we’re postponing off the wedding.” 

Yuuri’s eyes widen.

Is he hearing her correctly? 

They are going to postpone the wedding!? 

He must be dreaming - or rather, having a nightmare. That is the only logical explanation.

"You’re…what!?” Yuuri blurts, gaping at her. 

He can't believe what he is hearing. Okay, maybe after the entire scandal he can believe that they may want to call off the wedding, but he would never think she would do it willingly. 

For the few months he has known them, he knows they have discussed nothing else but the wedding. It seems that Yuuri's attention has been solely on them. Everything from choosing the tuxedo to choreographing the skating routine to even picking out the cake, Yuuri has done. 

He’s neglected his own life for theirs. 

And now they want to postpone it all? 

“It’s just not the right time. It’s too much too soon, you know,” she explains. She walks down the aisle of flowers, her heels clicking on the tiles as she walks further and further away. 

 “I…” Yuuri begins, stumbling for the right thing to say. 

What does one even say in this situation? An apology? A confession? A long explanation about how he is completely at fault? 

He wonders if he should he tell her the truth - the  _full_  truth. How he's the reason they're breaking up. How he is the one that told Victor that they may not love each other. How he is the reason that her relationship has been ruined because of him. 

Where does he even start? 

Isabella, however, seems to know exactly where. 

“You know, you were right," she says offhandedly. Her hands run over the petals of each flower as she continues down the aisle. 

He scowls at the that. 

Right? 

He hasn't been right about anything lately: about JJ's relationship, about the wedding, even about his own failed relationship. So what could he possibly be right about when he hasn't exactly said anything?

“About what?” he asks carefully. He curiously follows her lead as she continues towards the end of the row of flowers. 

Isabella stops at the back corner. She looks over her shoulder, as if someone will hear her if she says it too loud. “That we shouldn’t be getting married,” she confesses. 

Yuuri's mouth hangs open. He knows it is rude to gawk - especially in a public and professional setting - but he finds himself doing so anyways. 

 A million thoughts run through his head, trying to supply him with the right words to say. He doesn’t think any words could even come close to articulate how he is feeling right now.  

That even all the planning in the world couldn’t stop this from spiraling out of control before collapsing in front of him.

He supposes this adds just one more on his long list of failures. 

“I’m sorry…what?” he finds himself asking. 

She turns to him, offering a knowing smile. “I know you helped with that article.” 

Yuuri opens his mouth to refute, but quickly closes it. There's no reason to lie to her about it anymore.

He may as well accept his fate now. 

 “It’s okay! I won't tell anyone,” she assures him with a wink. “I’m actually here to thank you.” 

Yuuri raises his eyebrows. “Thank me?” he parrots, trying to understand the situation. 

Why is she thanking him for ruining her relationship? It simply doesn't make sense.

The dress is perfect, the invitations are all sent, even the cake has already been selected. Besides, what is there not to love about the giant party to celebrate their love becoming recognized? This is their dream wedding.  

Yuuri supposes it is his dream wedding as well. Or maybe, that’s all it ever was. 

“Yeah. Thanks to you and Victor, we can call off this whole stunt and do it on our terms, without all the pressure.” 

Yuuri shakes his head, his bangs falling into his eyes as he does so. “I’m sorry, I don’t follow.” 

“We had Victor try to get info about our wedding to get JJ’s parents to call off the wedding. I thought he told you that. That picture, the article, it was all planned. JJ’s family just wanted a big wedding for the publicity before the Olympics. You think we wanted to get married now? I don’t even have a degree or a real job!” She leans in close to Yuuri before whispering “between you and me, JJ and I just want a small wedding.” 

Yuuri stares at her, unable to comprehend what she has just told him. 

 The wedding? 

The article? 

Victor? 

“I…um…” 

“We didn’t mean to get you involved negatively. We actually wanted to help promote your business. We will make sure to have your name removed if that’s what you want. And you know, we will be sure to call you to plan that wedding when the time is right. We couldn’t have your business be slandered just because we don’t want to get married yet.” 

Yuuri’s mouth goes dry.  

“Well…I’m glad to hear everything is okay," he says logically. 

“I know it’s a lot to take in but we hope everything work out for you too. With everything,” she stresses with a knowing smile. 

 Yuuri looks at her, locking his eyes with hers. Her blue eyes wander around the flower shop as if she is searching for something, but Yuuri isn’t sure what.

"I think it will.”

“You know. The cost of not following your heart is spending the rest of your life wishing you had.” She pauses before adding “a wise person once told me that.” 

Yuuri looks down at the orchids. 

“Yeah, they’re on to something.”

* * *

It becomes a big scandal when JJ and Isabella call off their wedding. It seems that wherever Yuuri turns, he can't get away from it. Everyone - from newscasters to youtubers to even professional hockey players - has an opinion about it. For the second time this month, #JJBellaBreakup trends on social media.  

Some say the two have been caught in a steamy love affair; the perfect set up for a romantic comedy movie on the Hallmark channel. Others speculate that Isabella is pregnant and the marriage was supposed to make the child legitimate. It seems to be a rather popular theory on Reddit but it lacks any sort of real evidence to make it more than a rumor. Then there's a select few people that say their relationship has all been a publicity stunt so judges sympathize with JJ during his performances. They are mostly bitter skating fans who are sick of seeing him at the top of the podium.  

One of the more popular theories is that they never loved each other to begin with. Yuuri wishes that were true. He just wishes they were never in love in the first place. He wishes he never accepted to plan their wedding. He wishes he never met Victor Nikiforov.  

He wishes he could take it all back. 

“Yuuri?”  Phichit asks when Yuuri strides into the office. He furrows his eyebrows, thoroughly confused by his co-worker’s sudden appearance. 

Yuuri ignores him and walks into his own office, prompting Phichit to follow him 

“I thought you were supposed to be tending to JJ’s parents to pick out some napkins or something else stupid,” Phichit continues when Yuuri provides him with no explanation. “What are you doing here?” 

“They won’t be needing my help anymore,” Yuuri admits, keeping his tone casual.  Yuuri collapses into his office chair before adding “they called off the wedding." 

Phichit gasps - actually gasps. “So it’s not a rumor; it’s official?” 

Yuuri exhales, long and dramatic, but it feels good to do so.

“Yeah, I kinda always knew.” 

He feels a wave of relief wash over him when he says it out loud. It shouldn't be that big of a deal anyways; many clients end up cancelling their wedding. Why should this one be any different? 

“That sucks,” Phichit synthesizes.

Yuuri shrugs his shoulders. 

Sure, in the short term it may be a terrible situation. His company is compromised, his relationship is beyond repair, and he is downright miserable.

Nevertheless, Yuuri finds himself not caring about the Leroy-Yang wedding. For the past week, it seems that all he has been doing; fretting over a wedding that isn’t even his. Maybe it's his overwhelming anxiety that has turned him past the point of caring. Or maybe attribute it to his crippling depression or his broken heart but he can't seem to find it in himself to care. 

A few months ago, he would have, and he knows he should.

But now? 

Now he feels almost relieved that he doesn't have to deal with weddings anymore, at least in the short term. He feels light, like he's walking on a cloud, like he is a bird soaring through the air. Like he's gliding on the ice with Victor again. 

“So tell me everything,” Phichit insists with a naughty smile. He props himself up on Yuuri’s desk before asking “so how long have you known? How did you find out? Was it the girl in the picture? Who was the girl in the picture?” 

Yuuri laughs at Phichit’s enthusiasm. 

“It was actually Isabella,” he explains. 

Phichit arches one eyebrow, practically asking for a further explanation.

“With blonde hair,” Yuuri clarifies. "She apparently tried to bleach it last year. Let’s just say her short hair isn’t exactly a coincidence." 

Phichit crosses his left leg over his right. “So he wasn’t cheating on her?”

“No,” he says plainly.

Phichit squints his eyes at Yuuri.

“So why did they break up?" Phichit asks. He rests his head in his hands, ready to hear the real truth; not the stories that are floating around on Twitter. “Did they really not love each other? Or is Isabella actually pregnant? What are they gonna name the kid?“  

"No, no, it was the opposite,” Yuuri confesses. “They loved each other too much.” 

Phichit furrows his eyebrows, trying to understand Yuuri’s reasoning. “Then why did they call off the wedding?” 

“They want to wait until the right time. I don’t think they want to rush into something they aren’t ready for. They want to do it on their own terms; not their parents’.” 

Phichit clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “Ah, I see," he muses. He leans back, spreading his palms on the wooden desk. "So what are you gonna do now?” 

Yuuri offers him a small smile.“I think I’m going to take a break.” 

“A break?” Phichit repeats back. 

Phichit instinctively jerks up from his relaxes pose, standing up from Yuuri’s desk. He points a finger accusingly at his friend.

“You better not be going back to Japan! You said you would stay!” 

“I’m not, don’t worry,” Yuuri says, holding his hands up in a mock surrender. “I just think it’s time to step back from planning weddings.” 

"What?” he asks. He places a hand on his hip, trying to remain rational about Yuuri’s decision. “But wedding planning is your life.” 

“It _was_ ,” Yuuri corrects, curtly. “But now I know there’s more important things in life.” 

 Phichit narrows his eyes, glaring at Yuuri. “Whats more important than a stable job?” he deadpans  

Yuuri shakes his head. 

Yuuri couldn’t believe how blind he was before. How absolutely dense he was to the reality around him: there is more to life than planning someone else’s wedding. There is more to life than having a stable job and making money. There is more to life than making others happy at the expense of his own.  Maybe he doesn't want to be a wedding planner. Maybe he never did to begin with.

And if it takes falling in love with Victor Nikiforov to learn that, then so be it.

 “Love,” Yuuri he states plainly. 

He lets out a long breath of air he does not realize he is holding in.

Yuuri almost feels relieved saying it. He feels lighter, as if some sort of imaginary weight has been resting on him until he admits the truth.

He is in love; there is no denying that. The overwhelming swell of emotion budding in his chest which begs to be released. 

Phichit doesn’t say anything for a moment. His eyes just staring at Yuuri, calculating his next words carefully. 

“Don’t tell me you’re going back with the reporter?” he finally asks. He says it softly, almost tentative, as if he doesn’t want to be right. 

Yuuri doesn’t say anything; he doesn't have to. The warmth in his chest and the fast beating of his heart says it all. 

“Yuuri, he ruined your life!” he whines. He dramatically throws his hands in the air as if to make some sort of point about how dire the situation truly is.

Yuuri only flinches at his statement. He hangs his head shamefully, his eyes not meeting Phichit's glare. He feels bile pooling in his stomach, burning as it begins to collect in the back of his throat. He tries to swallow the acidic feeling before it can expel itself. 

He swallows it down.

Yes, Victor may have destroyed his career, he may have broken his heart, and just as well may have ruined his life. Victor is crass and cynical and absolutely impossible. 

But he loves him.  

And he can’t live his life through others anymore. It’s time for him to find his own love.

Phichit shakes his head. He doesn’t seem angry - maybe a bit disappointed, but certainly not angry. 

"What are you going to do now?” he asks, his voice soft. 

The corners of Yuuri’s lips turn upwards for the first time in what feels like a while. 

“I’m going to make things right," Yuuri declares. 

 Phichit rolls his eyes but smiles. “If you need help, I could tag along and beat him up for making you cry." For emphasis, Phichit even curls his hands into fists and punches Yuuri on the arm. 

Yuuri snorts. He can't imagine Phichit - 165 cm and 134lbs - being intimidating in the slightest. Maybe to an ant but not to Victor.

 “No, I think that isn’t necessary.” 

Phichit clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “You’re serious about him.”

 Yuuri stares at his friend blankly. He has never been more serious about anything in his life; not his move, not his clients, not even his job as a wedding planner.

He nods his head once. 

 Phichit lets out a sigh. He obviously isn't pleased by Yuuri's decision but he supposes there is no use fighting it. Yuuri is far too stubborn to listen to his advice, anyways. “Well, as long as you’re happy and I’m the best man at your eventual wedding, I’m happy," he settles for.

“Thanks," Yuuri mumbles. He pulls Phichit in for a hug, wrapping his arms around his friend's neck. "For everything.”

Phichit  tightens the hug. “Don’t mention it," he remarks. He unlocks himself from Yuuri's grip but keeps his hands clasped on his shoulders. "Now go get him.”

Yuuri smiles. 

“But if he ever breaks your heart again, just know I’m going to kick his ass.”

Yuuri rolls his brown eyes. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

Phichit bids him goodbye, leaving Yuuri alone in his office for the last time. 

He sits at his desk, carefully inspecting the room. It feels almost empty without any clients. The constant chatter from his guests is replaced with the monotonous sound of the water dripping on his windowsill and the hum of his incandescent light bulbs. 

His eyes land on his cellphone lying out on the desk. He knows he shut the offending object off days ago - leaving it in his office just for good measure - when he couldn't bare to see Victor's name pop up. For now, he is thankful he didn't throw it into the freezer like he wanted to. 

He ignores his onslaught on messages that awaits him when he powers the phone on. He types in Victor's number from memory, cringing that is automatically brings up his contact information with a picture and heart emojis. 

He types a simple message reading the one word over and over, contemplating how to change it. However, he gives up and decides to muster up the courage to press send. He supposes that  the mere possibility Victor could return  his sentimentality is all he needs to press send.  

He doesn’t exactly expect an immediate response so he sets the phone back down on the desk. But there will be a response; negative or positive. 

And that is something, at least. 

Because Yuuri does still love him, no matter what anyone else may think.  

He only hopes he still loves him back.

* * *

Victor is standing on his apartment steps as Yuuri approaches, awkwardly shifting his weight to the balls of his feet. 

Yuuri eyes him warily, but doesn't say anything about his appearance. He is miserable; Yuuri can tell by the mere lines under his eyes and tousled hair that he probably hasn’t slept all week. His usual pressed suit has rather obvious wrinkles and his tie is undone. 

As Yuuri walks closer, he can notice all the small details. His eyes are a puffy red, rubbed tender until no more tears could possibly form. His hands are lightly shaking, making the bouquet of flowers - orchids - begin to lose its petals.

And even through all of that, he's still beautiful; he's still Victor. 

"Yuuri,” Victor breathes out. The way he says his name is so somber yet so tender. It feels so familiar. And yet, it’s filled with an urgent desperation, one that pleads with every raw emotion to accept him. To stay with Victor and never let him leave. 

“Victor,” Yuuri finally says.  He can feel his breaths becoming more laboured, his chest tightening as he says his name. Outwardly, he tries not to show any signs of his heart deteriorating, any hint that he is breaking inside. 

He wants to cradle him in his arms, to press their lips together, to whisper sweet nothings until no more words come out. 

But a part of him wants to forget. 

He wants to forget Victor, to move on completely, to never think about the beautiful reporter ever again. Even if it is all a misunderstanding, Victor did still use him, ruin his career, and break his heart. 

And at this point, it doesn't seem possible to forget. 

Victor nervously licks his lips. “Please let me explain," he begs, his voice raw. 

Yuuri relaxes slightly and shifts his weight onto his left leg, waiting for him to continue. He will give him this chance; this one and only chance. There are only so many times he can give away his heart. 

But he will give him this chance. It’s the least he can do; because he still loves him, he truly does, even if Victor doesn't. 

"I should have told you the truth from the beginning,” he admits. He digs his hands through his bangs out of frustration. 

Yuuri inhales, trying to keep his breaths steady as he waits for Victor to continue with his explanation.   

Victor let's out a long breath as well. ”Isabella and JJ wanted me to write that article. They wanted a reason to postpone the wedding and so they hired me. And I wanted to use your company’s name so you would get exposure. I didn’t mean for it to back fire.” 

Yuuri doesn't say anything. 

“And I promise you, that all the times we spent together, it wasn’t just to get information from you. I actually like hanging out with you. Even at the ice rink, I wasn’t just trying to write this dumb article; I genuinely enjoyed being with you.” 

Yuuri holds up a hand, promptly interrupting Victor’s ramblings.

“I know,” he says smoothly. ”Isabella told me.” 

“She did?" he asks Yuuri, his voice raspy as he speaks. It lacks its usual sweet tone, but it's still Victor. 

Yuuri nods once. 

Victor taps a finger to his bottom lip. "What else did she tell you?" 

Yuuri offers him a small smile. “She thinks you give JJ a run for his money in the looks department," he admits with a wink.

Victor's expression softens. 

All of the previous hate, the festering despair, the sadness; it all seems to wash away at that quip. As if Yuuri can just reset time. As if nothing has changed. As if the events of the past week suddenly do not matter anymore. 

And it doesn't. The only thing that matters is how they feel about each other. There is no screaming, no crying, no physical fight that only leaves them more broken than before. 

He feels free. 

Yuuri wonders if it can really be this easy. 

Victor smirks, a smile curling on his lips. “Well she’s not wrong,” he says, puffing out his chest. 

Yuuri rolls his eyes lightheartedly. “Mhmm,” he hums in agreement. 

The two stand in silence for a few moments, as if they don't know what to say. Words will only spoil the moment, after all.

They remain still, their eyes locking on each other, waiting for the other to speak first.

"I’m sorry Yuuri,” Victor finally says. 

Yuuri chews on his bottom lip nervously. 

“And I know I can’t take back the article, and I’m sorry," Victor continues, stumbling over his words as they continue to tumble out of his mouth. "Your career is probably ruined and it’s all my fault. And if you want, I can leave here but just know that you made me feel something I thought I never thought I would. And I know you feel the same, or at least did.” 

Victor curls his hands  tighter around the bouquet of flowers. 

“So I want to put this behind us. I should’ve been honest from the beginning. I never wanted to use you, I really do like you.” 

Yuuri only stares at him, letting him continue.

“And no matter what little you think of me,” Victor continues. “I’m in love with you Yuuri.” 

“You…love me?” 

“Yes, Yuuri,” he assures him. He presents the bouquet to him, letting him take the flowers into his handsu “I love you. You’re incredible and absolutely perfect. And I love you.”

 Yuuri accepts the flowers, cradling them in his arms. Victor takes that as a sign to move one step towards Yuuri, closing the distance between the two. 

“I thought you don’t believe in love,” Yuuri whispers. 

“I didn’t,” he confesses. “Until I met you.” 

Yuuri tilts his head slightly upward, his eyes meeting Victor’s blue ones through his eyelashes. He misses how he seems to get lost in his eyes. 

“Victor, that’s so…” he trails off, trying to find the words to express his overwhelming emotions. 

 “Sappy? Cliche? Crap to spin for hopeless romantics like you?” Victor suggests lightheartedly. 

Yuuri lets out a light, bubbly laugh. He then proceeds to slaps him playfully on his arm with the flowers. “I was going to say perfect," he corrects. 

 “No, you’re perfect.” 

He leans in, pressing their body together. Yuuri rests his chin on his collarbone, nuzzling his face into Victor's shoulder. He drinks in his scent: the same musky cologne and red wine that seems to linger on his body. He has never thought he would like something like that, but he supposes Victor continues to surprise him.

Victor cups his cheek. His thumb traces down his jawline, sliding down his face until meeting at his chin. 

“You know I was always trying to find the perfect guy," Yuuri muses quietly. He’s not really sure if he has said that out loud or not. "And then you showed up.”

Victor raises his eyebrows, trying to look offended, but they both know it's not sincere in the slightest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Yuuri begins, poking him on his forehead. “That you’re nothing like the man I imagined. You’re cynical and stubborn and downright impossible sometimes." 

Victor pouts.

"But that makes you perfect because now I wouldn’t want anyone else." 

Victor’s expression softens. He pulls Yuuri away, steadying them a few centimeters apart. He takes Yuuri’s free hand, placing a chaste kiss on his ring finger.

“That sounds a lot like a marriage proposal.” 

Yuuri’s expression softens at that. He wraps his arms around Victor’s neck, pulling him into a tight embrace once more. Yuuri's glasses dig into his shoulder awkwardly but Victor doesn’t seem to mind. 

"Fighting with you was the worst and best thing that ever happened to me." 

He holds his at arms length, his brown eyes meeting Victor’s blue ones. He can see the small flakes of gold near the corners of his irises and he never wants to look away. 

“Oh really?” Victor questions, his eyebrows raised. 

“Because now I know that I love you too." 

"Yuuri..." he says fondly. Victor tightens his grip around him as if he isn't there, as if this is all his imagination, as if he lets go Yuuri will disappear. 

“I’m sorry for not trusting you,” Yuuri whispers into his shoulder. His eyelids flutter shut as the tears begin to fall from his eyes. They begin to leave pools on Victor’s shirt which makes Yuuri feel a tad guilty. “I was so hurt that I didn’t even want to hear what you had to say.”

He removes his glasses, trying to clean the tear stains off of the lenses with the bottom of his shirt. He knows it's feeble and that Victor probably doesn't care, but he does so out of habit. 

“Shh, Yuuri, it’s okay.” He runs his hand through Yuuri’s hair, his slender fingers getting caught in the tangles. “I probably wouldn’t trust me either.”

Yuuri swipes at his eyes, trying to dry the tears with his sleeves.

“So what are you going to do now?” Yuuri asks, his voice shaky. “You don’t exactly have a story anymore with their wedding being cancelled and all.” 

“I’ll just write about JJ’s skating like I used to,” Victor says, waving his hand dismissively. “And then maybe try skating for myself.”  

Yuuri smiles, the corners of his lips turn upwards. 

“You think I can make it to the Olympics?” 

Yuuri snorts. 

“And beat JJ?” Yuuri teases with a scoff. “I hardly see that happening.”  

“Hey, I could become a Five Time World Champion,” Victor pouts, pursing his bottom lip forward. 

He taps him on his nose. “I’d like to see you try," Yuuri says, his voice low and sultry. 

“What about you?” Victor asks. “Have any new clients?” 

Yuuri adverts his eyes to the floor. 

“No,” he confessed bluntly. 

Victor taps a finger to his own lips. “You know, I could get you some connections. It’s the least I can do for ruining your last one. I could get my friend Chris to finally settle down just for you.”  

“Thanks,” Yuuri says sincerely. “But I think I’m going to take a break from planning weddings."

Victor’s eyes widen, his mouth going dry. 

“Yuuri, you can’t!” he pleads. 

Yuuri stares at him, mouth agape.

“What? Why?” Yuuri asks. He furrows his eyebrows, trying to understand Victor’s reasoning. He is the one who hates weddings, after all. Shouldn’t he be happy for him?

“I thought you’d be happy that I’m taking time for myself,” Yuuri continues to explain.

“No, I am. I’m ecstatic actually. Anything to get you away from those overly expensive ceremonies that are only used to exploit people's happiness for profit.”

Yuuri narrows his eyes at Victor. “So what’s the problem?” 

“Well you promised to plan my wedding,” Victor whines. 

“Victor I don’t-” 

Victor cuts him off promptly, not wanting to hear anymore of his rambles. He bends down onto one knee, taking Yuuri's free hand into his.  

“Yuuri Katsuki," he begins _._ A blush grows on his face, reaching far past his cheeks and up to his ears. "Will you marry me?” 

Yuuri steps backwards, overwhelmed by Victor’s proposal. 

This isn’t what he has expected. An apology, yes. But a proposal? And an unconventional one at that? It’s almost too much to handle.

"You don't even have rings," Yuuri blurts lamely.  

Victor chuckles at his answer. “You’re right. I was thinking we could pick them out together.”

“And isn’t it a bit soon?” he rationalizes, unable to formulate a concrete answer. 

Yes, he does want to marry Victor; this is what he has been waiting for his entire life. He wants to finally settle down, have a ring on his finger, and refer to himself as Yuuri Katsuki-Nikiforov. He wants to spend the rest of his life waking up to his light snores, falling asleep in his arms, and taking as many days to fall in love all over again. 

But he also can’t marry him now; even if he does love him. Victor surely knows that. Besides, weddings need time to plan (no one knows that better than Yuuri, after all)! And as much as Phichit wants him to, he is not going to elope. 

Victor tilts his head back, laughing at his response. He presses his lips against Yuuri’s knuckles.  

“Of course not right now," he begins. 

Victor stands from his kneeling position, his hand still grasping Yuuri’s. He begins to run his thumb over Yuuri's ring finger as if he is marking a spot for the ring to go.

"We don’t want to rush things like Isabella and JJ. But one day, I do want to see you in that speedo tux.”

Yuuri mentally face palms. He wishes that he never showed Victor his collection of wedding outfits in the first place.

“So one day, will you take my hand in marriage?” 

Yuuri tugs Victor close. He closes his eyes before pressing his lips against Victor’s and drinking in the taste of his soft lips on his own. It’s chaste and innocent leaving a lingering feeling on both of their lips as they pulls away. And yet, their kiss is so intimate, so familiar, as if nothing has changed. If they are reporter and wedding planner or Yuuri and Victor or husband and husband, they will always be in love. 

 “I do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like this story, please leave a comment/kudos! And please follow my tumblr @vodkawrites for more of this AU!
> 
> Again, I apologize for any mistakes and everything. I will fix them for tomorrow morning but for right now, I'm going to bed. 
> 
> I already have another quick drabble in the works for this AU so please stay tuned! Hint: Chris is a guest star ;)
> 
> Thank you all so much!!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading this! If you like this, please leave a comment or kudos! They really inspire me to write more <3!
> 
> Follow my tumblr [@vodkawrites](http://vodkawrites.tumblr.com) for more updates, art, and other yuri!!! on ice content!!


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